Alphabet City
by Dancerslife
Summary: In the heart of the city that never sleeps, there are letters dancing around, beging to be seen.
1. Chapter 1

Adultery by definition is voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a partner other than a lawful spouse.

Karen had never been the one to follow rules. Not unless they were hers and she hardly followed her own. The one she swore to herself after college that she would follow was to never sleep with a married man. The idea of adultery reminded her of her mother and the last person she wanted to be was her mother. She forced herself not to do it, no matter how tempting it was; she couldn't do it.

The thought of her being adulterous didn't seem to fit the idea now. But it was she who was married and he the other partner. She had someone waiting for her at home, if he was home; if he was even at home. Her partner, logically, wasn't supposed to be there. He wasn't supposed to have been there to deal with her alcohol induced rant. He wasn't supposed to have kissed her to shut her up, full well knowing what she was capable off. Full well knowing what kind of person she was.

It wasn't the sun that woke her up, the room was dark. It wasn't the lack of blankets that caused her to stir, she was covered up completely. It definitely wasn't the soft snoring coming from the person next to her; the person who had his arm wrapped around her waist, cradling her against his chest. It was the realization of who the person was, where she was, and why she was there that caused her to sit up in bed. The arm was slowly pulled away, the hand resting on her lower back, sending shivers up her spine. There was surprising warmth to the gentle touch slowly started to scare her; she liked it and she didn't want to. She couldn't start to like it.

"What time is it?" Her partners' voice was filled with sleep. She jumped as her partner took hold of her hand and quickly pulled it away. "Kare-?"

"I need to go," She said standing up out of bed and quickly searched for her clothes on the floor of her bedroom. "I need to go home,"

"Stay," He pleaded, grabbing her wrist. "You're going to come back in a couple hours anyway."

"We can deal with this later then," She said trying to get his grip to loosen. He pulled her to him and turned her around, her back against his chest. He kissed her shoulder and trailed it up her neck, nudging her cheek a little to give him more access. "Don't do this, not now."

"You love this," He murmured kissing her cheek. The only sound that filled the room was her sharp intake as his hands traveled lower than her stomach.

"You can't do this to me," She turned around and taking a step back. "You can't kiss me every time I get drunk and get me into bed. Just by saying it with you in the room sounds completely foreign to me. You don't sleep with woman."

"I slept with you. You count."

"I shouldn't though. I'm married."

"When did that stop you before?" He asked taking a seat on the edge of the bed watching Karen continue to dress. "You can't keep pulling the marriage card with every guy you sleep with Karen. Some people won't care."

"Right now, I can't deal with this, whatever this is."

"Tell me, right now, that you didn't feel anything last night. Tell me, right now, that when you woke up not too long ago you smiled first. Tell me, that you aren't looking at that door praying that it locks from the outside. You wanted that last night. I saw it in your eyes, Karen. So tell me, right now that you didn't want it and that you're going to go back to your husband telling him how much you love him."

"I can't." It came out barely a whisper. "I can't walk out of here swearing to myself that I'll never see you again. It won't happen. I can't say that last night didn't mean anything to me since I felt like myself for the first time in a long time. And I thank you for that, but I just can't" She was stopped by her partners' hands on resting lightly on her cheeks. The pads of his fingers lightly wiping away the tears that were threatening to fall. His lips were hovering inches above hers and the distance was quickly closed at his request.

It was the warmth that filled her body when he kissed her that forced her into him. She felt his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. He knew her needs; all of them. He knew what she wanted and when she needed it; all the time. He knew her better than anyone else; which scared her and made her happy. She couldn't have handled anyone else touching her the way he touched her. She would have slapped anyone else if they touched her that way after they spent the night together. He was different. He always was different than anyone else on her staff. He was her lawyer; their lawyer, her husband and hers. He wasn't supposed to be mixing work and pleasure; but with her there wasn't an option. His work was his pleasure. At least when it came to Karen.

"You wouldn't have been able to leave here without explaining to Grace why you were here in the first place?" She raised her eyebrow, asking him the silent question of needing a bit of explanation. "Listen," Grace's voice was muffled by the walls but still audible. "You wouldn't have been able to get out without getting interrogated." Karen nodded and looked up into Will's hazel eyes before glancing at the clock; 1:45 am it blinked in red.

She smiled at the time, realizing she had been with him for three hours, half spending exploring each other's bodies, getting to know each other, and the other half sleeping it off, and dealing with what was happening next. She hadn't realized she was paralyzed and her feet stuck to the floor until she felt Will tugging her arm; towards the bed hopefully just to sleep or lay there.

She hadn't realized how perfect his body was. His chest was warm and welcoming, soft enough for a pillow. His arms strong and light enough for a safe cover, a shield against harm. His lips, soft and addicting, the flavor of whatever makes him up more alive on his lips than anywhere else on his body. She realized right than and there, that Will made her happy. No one had ever been able to do that before. There had been a hand full of people who made her semi happy, but nothing like what she was feeling then.

It was unexplainable, but blissfully happy was apart of it. There was a feeling of neediness and lust that filled that space. It was a variety of things that made up this unexplainable feeling. But as long as she laid in his arms, far from the world, she was happy. There wasn't anyone she needed to explain the reason she was in Will's arms fully dressed and him naked. There was no need to explain the reason why she was thinking of the process of which he slowly undresses her, dropping kisses every time a new piece her skin was exposed. She needed to convince herself more than anyone that she was perfectly content in the act of adultery.

Adultery by definition is voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a partner other than a lawful spouse. Her lawful spouse was just as good as dead to her. He cheated on her, and up until the night before she hadn't cheated on him. It was an excuse to get relieved from all the pent up anxiety she was feeling against her husband. She needed an outlet, someone to relieve her of the pain she felt when her husband would leave her for someone else, someone younger. Instead of finding someone she didn't know, someone she wouldn't ever see again; she found someone she's known for years, someone she sees every day. Relief was a poor excuse for adultery, but it was a damn good one.


	2. Betraying Thoughts

Betrayal by definition means to deceive, misguide, or corrupt.

Karen looked at Will talking to Grace across the room. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a glass of champagne. She looked down into her own class which held vodka, her drink of choice. He had never been vodka, he wasn't see thru, he was cloudy and dark, much like tequila. It was odd how he told her that, the one day in Grace's office. She hated tequila, the burning sensation was stronger than that of vodka, which was she preferred the clear liquid. It reminded her of water, and how easily it was to pretend that the vodka was water. Sometimes, she had water, making lookers believe it was vodka. Her secret.

She caught his eye and smiled lightly, before turning her attention to the man standing in front of her. She could feel her body starting to betray her. The man who had blocked her vision was an old friend of Stan's, they went to school together, planned on running a business together; they made plans that never went through. He was telling her how great Stan was, and how happy he was with Cathy, and how surprised he was when he had found Karen. She wasn't really paying attention to the man, her attention on Will conversing with some man.

He was smiling and laughing at whatever the man was talking about. She left her ex-husband's friend and circled the room, not taking her eyes off of Will and his new friend. He had ditched the champagne class and both hands were now in his pockets. She smiled at the idea that her hands had been in those very pockets hours before, when she helped him with his suit. She smiled at the memory of running her hands under the lapels, straightening out his sleeves, making him squirm under her touch, full well knowing nothing was going to be happening. She remembered the kiss he had left on her cheek before leaving her alone in the small room. She was lost in thought, not realizing the man in question was standing in front of her. "Are you okay Karen?"

Karen looked up, his voice taking her out of the memory trance. "You screwed me over," She said leaning against the chair that appeared in front of her.

"Not since this morning," He replied low in her ear. His breath making her shuffle her feet. "If you're referring to the incident in the room that was all you're doing."

"You seem to be having a good time." She said, praying that he would follow her lead. "He seems like a nice guy."

"I don't do guys anymore." He said lightly tracing circles on her wrist standing behind her. "I only do you. Now unless you've grown a pair then we can reconsider, but until then, you're it."

"Don't do this to me William," She whispered hastily. "I'm going slightly insane right now. You're standing to close and there is no place _we_ can go without causing a scene. So you need to walk away and leave me alone." It was the finger that ran up her bare back that caused her to shiver.

"If you wanted to me stop and walk away, as your lawyer, I would advise you not to where things like this," He said bunching up some of the satin fabric. "It could lead to indecent exposure." He kissed her cheek and walked back over to Grace and Jack, whose backs gratefully were turned away. In that precise moment, she hated him.

It seemed like hours had passed, and she had conversed with everyone in the room, about some topic that they found interesting. The only thing she found interesting was Will standing against the wall, talking with the same man as earlier. He caught her eye and raised his glass before drinking some. He was playing a game. The game being who broke first.

Who would break the barrier line? Who would break a glass or something, just to have the other touch them? It was a game right then and there, and they both knew who wasn't going to win. The answer: both of them. She could feel her nerves starting to tighten, and the only thing to get them loose was the man across the room, and he knew it.

Her body and mind were betraying her. They were giving her thoughts of Will that she didn't need to have. She didn't need to be subconsciously reminded that his hands favored traveling up her back and up over her shoulders before fully resting in her hair. She didn't need to be reminded that his lips, as soft as they were, kissed her cheeks before her lips and then the rest of her body. She didn't need to be reminded that under the black and white, was olive skin that instantly flamed under her touch. These things that she did to him, wasn't things that she needed to be thinking off in the presence of other influential people.

"You're blushing Mrs. Walker," Will said coming up next to her.

"Go away," She said, finding herself looking over the room of people. She hadn't realized she made her way up there. She felt his hand cover hers, and wasn't allowed to pull her hand away. "Let go,"

"No chance." He said intertwining his fingers with hers, pulling her away from the balcony. "I want to show you something,"

She felt like she was walking on air. His hand, so smooth, and so protective, was a perfect fit with hers. Even the sudden blast of cold air that she walked into didn't bother her, she was with him. In his arms, wherever she was, she could be held and not worry about anything. She needed that in her life, and she never had it until she met Will. She never had someone to wake up in the morning for, she never had someone to meet because she wanted to, her life and thoughts didn't revolve around anyone, until the snowy morning she met Will.

"This is a garden Will," Karen pointed out as he took her farther into a hedge of flowers.

"I'm aware of that," He said taking a seat on a stone bench. "This is where I came to think when I was a kid and my mom brought me here. Her and her friends had tea in the room next door. I hated sticking around listening to them gossip, so I came out here."

"It's beautiful." She nodded.

"My dad proposed to my mom here," Will informed her, feeling Karen tense besides him. "I'm not going to ask you to marry me Karen. I wouldn't want to ask and you say no. I wouldn't want to ruin what we have now, and in my opinion it's better than marriage."

Betrayal by definition means to deceive, misguide, or corrupt. Her body deceived her. Her mind sent corrupt thoughts. All of her life she was misguided. No one showing her what path she was supposed to take and what path she would end up on. There was no book explaining the do's and don'ts of a marriage or an adulterous affair. There was nothing to prepare her for the extra weight that she felt on her left hand after she herself swore that what she had with Will didn't mean anything. She wasn't expecting to tell him how she felt with one go.

Betrayal was something she was familiar with. Her feelings betrayed her thoughts. Her thoughts betrayed her body. Her body betrayed gravity. And n the end, gravity always ended up winning. Especially when she ended up on her back, wrapped in sheets that smelled like him.


	3. Different Chocolates

Chocolate, by a lot of people's definition, is sweet, addicting perfection. It's curing mechanisms; it's the best medicine for an emotional breakdown.

Karen stared at the half eaten box of white chocolate, six pieces left, six pieces disposed of in a manner some may have looked down upon. In her mind, she shouldn't have been 'tasting' salt and chocolate, particularly her favorite kind. She shouldn't have enjoyed tasting the chocolate against his lips every time he kissed her. It wasn't fair to a lot of people that she did what she did.

It wasn't fair to Grace, to lose her best friend, and ex fiancé, no matter how short the time was, to a woman who was called an adulterous bitch from time to time. It wasn't fair to Jack, to lose his best friend, a man he's known for years, to a woman who he looked up to. It wasn't fair to Will, who had now begun to question his sexuality, something he had been so sure of since college, because of a woman who needed to act on her desires and relieve herself of pain. It wasn't fair to the chocolate that she was now devouring because of emotions she couldn't get a hold on.

Will had given her the chocolate. Will had been the one to sweep her off her feet and take her to a secluded little island with a small house and their own private beach that went for miles. It was all Will's doing when she woke up that morning with a plate of strawberries covered in white chocolate in his place on the bed. It was Will who found out that her favorite type of chocolate was white, and surprised her with it, and despite the fact that the sudden closeness in their relationship scared her, she loved it.

The chocolate barred the brunt of her emotions. She, in secret, ate a box at a time, trying to figure out where she went wrong in her various relationships with people. The boxes of chocolate she received for Valentine's Day or Christmas or even Easter, she'd store away in a freezer to save them for her next emotional rollercoaster. It would just be her succumbing to the chocolate and her bed. Now, it was the chocolate, Will, bed, and the rest of the chocolate that she wasn't able to finish. She always found herself sharing a box of chocolate in one way or another with him. Whether it be melted against their fingers, arms, stomach, or chest. Or it was in pieces that they would get each other to eat after a tale of their past or future hopes. They'd never finish a box in one sitting. It always took two.

"There you are," She heard him say from the entry way behind her. She was sitting on their back porch over looking pathways leading up to various Villas. She felt his hands drop gently onto her shoulders and his fingers slowly beginning to knead the tension.

"Don't do this to me Will," She pleaded. "I can't deal with this."

"You keep saying that and alas here you are." He said dropping a kiss to the crown of her head and continuing to knead, earning him an appreciative moan.

"I can't-"She gasped at the change in pressure. "Become addicted to you and chocolate at the same time. It doesn't work that way."

"At least you're admitting you're addicted." He said with humor lacing his statement. "Leave the chocolate,"

"What would happen if I left you? Or you leave me?" She asked turning to look at him. "Will, this wasn't supposed to be anymore than a relief. For you and for me. We just met up when we were both in need of someone to 'talk' to. It was never supposed to end up being taken away on a romantic getaway." He reached out to her only causing her to step back. "We don't do gifts and getaways. We do sex and go our separate ways. None of this emotional crap."

"Yet you bury yourself in a box of chocolate so that way you don't have to deal with any of your problems?"

"I have an addiction problem." She admitted. "I have an addiction to chocolate. I have an addiction the sexual thoughts that chocolate brings to mind. I have an addiction to the sexual thoughts that revolve around you. I am addicted to you. That's four things to many to be addicted to. I've loved chocolate since I was a kid. I love the way you can lick it off your fingers and still get the same sensation. I love the fact that despite the contortions of chocolate, it still tastes the same. I'm in love with you and the way chocolate tastes a hundred times better when you kiss me." She replayed the last sentence over in her mind and watched Will do the same. Perhaps a few times more. By the time he realized what she just confessed she was already gone.

He found her moments later walking down the steps leading to the beach with her box of chocolate. He quickly made his way to her, grabbing her wrist forcing her to turn around. Before she could open her mouth and say anything, Will pressed a kiss to her mouth, forcing any previous thoughts away.

She found herself melting into him, as chocolate melted in a persons mouth. It was a perfect fit. She felt the box slip out from her grasp. She wanted to protest as she felt her current lifeline slip away, but Will's lips were silencing her from anything; not that she currently minded.

"My chocolate is going to be melted," She said as he kissed her cheek, and tracing her jaw with his forefinger.

"I have more," He said silencing her once again. She started to feel herself being ushered backwards into the house. She could feel the pain building up in her sides from the tightness of his grip on her waist. She knew there was going to be bruises. "If this is you're response to chocolate, I love it."

She smiled into his kiss. She divested her hands into his jacket playing with the lapels of his blouse. "Where were you planning on going?"

"Out." He said shortly. "I needed to get you more chocolate to make up for that one," He smirked.

"You're a jerk." She said before feeling the handle in her lower back. She dropped a hand and reached behind her and went to open it. It was seconds before she was turned around into the closed door inside the house. It was the smell of chocolate that forced her to stop and break the kiss. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The chocolate. I have a sense for chocolate," She said taking the stairs to her bedroom. She was searching for the chocolate, when she felt the heat on her back.

"You're going the wrong way." He said taking his hand in hers, pulling her back down the stairs and into the kitchen. There she was introduced with a fountain of chocolate, white chocolate to be exact, and a bowl of strawberries. She looked up at him with a smile on her face.

White Chocolate, the rich sensation of sugar milk, was her secret addiction. The darkness of the classic chocolate seemed redundant. The dark chocolate came with just about everything, M&M's, classic candy bars, covered waffles, various sweet things. It was the white chocolate that stood out, the one that she loved. She didn't dislike dark chocolate, or milk chocolate, she would eat it if there was no white.

Chocolate, by a lot of people's definition, is sweet, addicting perfection. It's curing mechanisms; it's the best medicine for an emotional breakdown. Her emotional breakdown was trying to convince herself that the romantic getaway wasn't going to mean anything. Her emotional breakdown was trying to convince herself that Will was just her lawyer, and just her friend; the sex didn't mean anything other than an escape.

It was him being Tequila and not Vodka yet again. He was dark chocolate when she wanted white. He was at the deep end of the pool when she liked to tread near the three feet. But it's all about chances. Taking chances with different types of chocolates seemed to be what she was doing. Her romantic getaway forced her to realize how good dark chocolate was.


	4. Deadly Realizations

"According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true. We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves. Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance."- Grey's Anatomy

Denial

Karen was sitting on Will's couch, completely entranced by the white wall in front of her. It had been two hours since she had heard the news of Stanley's untimely death; caused by a heart attack. Will tried to get her to eat, he tried to get her to talk, and everything he attempted seemed to fail. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his side, feeling her head hit his shoulder with a soft thump. He lightly caressed her head, leaning his cheek on the top of it.

"He can't be gone," she whispered, in between nearly silent sobs. "He has two children. He can't be gone."

He felt her grip his shirt in her hands, pulling it to her face. She needed something that smelled like him. She needed to smell the distinct smell that made her crave him in the most inopportune times. "I got you Kare-" Will whispered, kissing her hair next.

"I loved him." She sighed, feeling much like a five year old. "I really did."

"I know," He said rubbing her back and holding her. "I know you did." There was sincerity in his voice. Sincerity she never thought she'd get from anyone who was involved with Stan, legally or otherwise.

Anger

"I don't want anything in this house!" He heard her yell from a level above him. "I don't want anything that reminds me of that fat cheating egotistical bastard." She nearly jumped out of her skin at the gentle hand that spread warmth through her body. Her face softened for a moment at the sight of Will, then was quickly replace by the mask that she previously had on. "Go away,"

:"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep throwing the vases that way," He told her, finding himself needing to dodge another crystal vase.

"That son of a bitch left me with nothing!" She yelled. "After all the crap I went through with him I get nothing?"

Will simply nodded. He was the unfortunate one who had to tell her that Stan's money meant nothing to anyone. He hadn't had millions of dollars possibly billions as she was lead to believe. "Karen, calm down," He said taking her by the shoulders and turning her around. "Olivia and Mason might want something from this house."

She took a step back and shook her head. "Curly and Buddha aren't getting anything! What part of Stanley Walker's fortune means nothing to anyone! It means nothing!' she screamed in between light sobs. He took her in his arms once again, feeling her beat his chest a few times before completely succumbing to tears and wetting the front of Will's shirt. He just held her, rubbing her back, a habit he was starting to form. There were no words to explain how she felt. There were no words that could be said to make her feel any better.

Bargain

He hadn't felt the bed shift, he hadn't heard the ruffling of clothes, he hadn't sensed Karen leaving the room. It was only brought to his attention when he rolled over expecting to drape his arm across her instead of dropping his hand on a vacant space. He slowly made his way into the kitchen and he heard the soft tapping of keys before seeing Karen sitting at the table with his laptop in front of her. She was wearing one of his white t-shirts landing mid thigh. Normally she'd smile if she sensed him or looked up, but there was no movement from her. Just her eyes moving side to side as she read whatever had her completely submersed.

"Kare, what are you reading?" He asked pulling a chair up next to her.

"I'm going to sue the doctors," She said blatantly. "And before you ask, I'm suing them for malpractice."

"Kare, you can't sue them if they did everything they possibly could," He said running his hand up her arm. She shifted slightly pulling away.

"They could have done something with his arteries. Open them up allowing more blood flow. Or they could have given him a heart transplant. Something other than giving up and allowing him to die."

"He signed a DNR Kare, there was nothing you or the doctors could have done. The bills for liposuction would have been more than funeral plans." He said trying to make some light of all this. She turned to face him, burying her head in his shoulder.

"One more day was all I needed. One more day to tell him. One more day to do something with him or his kids to do with him." She said beginning to cry. Will dropped a kiss to the top of her head, holding her in his arms. He could feel the wetness from her tears seeping through his own shirt. Her body shook and she cried, something he'd swore to himself never to witness again.

Depression

It had been a month since Stan's death. It had been a month since she had been faced with the harsh reality that there was nothing left to really live for. She loved him, or at least she thought she did. He introduced her to alcohol, anything stronger than the wine she became used to. She stared at the nearly empty bottle of vodka and looked out of the blurred window. She could hardly see anything through her tears.

She stared at the empty shot bottles that she had nicely lined up along the windowsill. There must have been twelve or thirteen; she couldn't remember. Her head was pounding, feeling much like a rock concert going on in her head. She felt numb. She felt unimportant. There was nothing anyone could say or do that would force her to put down the bottle. She had two good hearty glasses left to drown and then hopefully sleep would be calling and not have her get up for a long time. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by a muffled voice yelling her name.

She was in a daze as the bottle was taken out of her hand and her body lifted and placed on the bed. "Kare- Can you hear me?" The voice asked. He had dark hair. That's all she could tell. "Karen!" The person yelled. She wanted to sleep. She had to sleep. "Karen come on, come on wake up." She was awake wasn't she. It wasn't until she felt the cold water being poured over her face that she quickly sat up sputtering out the water. It was Will sitting next to her. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him to her, crying into his shoulder, knowing he'd take care of her and her headache. Her first. Headache later.

Acceptance

She was sitting on the balcony of his apartment, finding her feet curled up underneath her, with a blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders. It had been two months since Stan died. Stan died and she nearly killed herself. She hated him. She hated what name he gave her. She, because of him, was the heartless bitch, when in actuality she was a nice and down to earth person. She hated him because she loved him. Somehow she learned to love him. She, after years of marriage, found someone else. Someone who made her significantly happier.

She stood up from the chair and found Will in the kitchen making dinner. Grace and Jack were sitting at the table conversing about something. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into him, looking over his shoulder to see what he was making. He dropped a kiss to her temple, before continuing. Her friend looked up at her with smiles on their faces. They learned to accept the relationship she had with Will. Karen had learned to accept the relationship she had with Will. Because of Will, she learned to accept that her husband, who was never fair to her, was dead. She accepted the fact that she never loved him. She loved him because of his money and everything that came with it. It was the news that he had nothing that forced her to rethink her past with him and her future with Will, and the one she'd like to focus on.

Everyone has different ways of dealing with Death. Some go through the stages in a different order. Some go in that particular order. Some stay stuck on a single stage, allowing it to become an obsession. Some never deal with it, and convince themselves that it was just a horrible dream. It's never the case. Everyone goes through the five stages of Death, whether its known or not. It happens.


	5. Engagement Papers

Engagement: promise to marriage, and also the period of time between proposal and marriage – which may be lengthy or trivial.

Will Truman stared at the paper in front of him. It was a picture of Karen, with him nowhere in sight. She had an expensive ring on her left hand, a clear signal she was taken. She was getting married and the question that entered everyone's mind was to whom? She was dressed in a gorgeous red floor length dress, the sleeves covering up her arms. She was fixing her hair, a curl getting tucked behind her ear, when the image was taken. She was smiling, a sign of happiness. It wasn't the smile that she forced, it was the genuine smile, and he himself fell in love with.

Karen appeared moments later in the living room glowing. She was dressed in a business suit, smiling at him as she entered the apartment. He watched her, noticing the ring gone from her hand. She was trying to hide it, hide this new engagement. Was she guilty that she was getting married, so soon, after her husband had passed away merely months before? Was she trying to hide it from Grace or Jack? He shook his head as she happily came to him, getting ready to sit down next to him. Her eyes fell to the paper and she slowly sunk into the chair, taking the paper into her hands.

"I should have been more careful," She managed to say. "I shouldn't have worn it out in public."

"You just got engaged you were happy." He said with a small smile. "You wanted to show the press and whoever else was there that Karen Walker was capable of moving on. "

"You're mad. I shouldn't have done it."

"It doesn't matter if I'm mad or if I'm happy. They know you're getting remarried. Why hide it?" He watched her look down and fidget with the paper. He took her hand in his, "Honestly Kare, tell them. Don't tell them. I don't care."

"Don't you think Jack and Grace would get mad?" She asked, standing up and walking into the kitchen. 'They aren't going to be happy after I've lied to them for so long."

"Since when do you care what anyone thinks?" He asked. "You didn't tell me that _we _were going to the get together until the hour before. And you sure as hell didn't tell me you were going to wear you're engagement ring."

They watched the door open and close, revealing a shocked Grace and Jack, only confirming the assumption that they hear of Karen's news. "Is it true?" Jack asked. "Are you getting married again?" Karen nodded and leaned against the counter.

"Who is it?" Grace asked, forcing Karen to shoot Will a look of worry. She didn't want to say. She couldn't say it without losing one of them if not all three. "How long have you known him? Or her?"

"I've known him for about ten years now," She said with a sad smile. Jack opened his mouth and closed it quickly. "I was having an affair when Stan was a live for a year and a half."

"Did Stan know?" Will asked, full well knowing the answer to the question. Karen shook her head.

"Even if he did, he didn't say anything." She said sadly. "I'm really happy that I'm getting married. I'm really happy that someone is willing to deal with me."

"The paper said that you were escorted by Will. Why was he there and not you're fiancé? " Grace asked. Karen looked to Will and failed at her attempt to suppress her smile. "It's Will? You're getting married to Will?"

Will took the initiative and nodded his head, watching Karen slowly move closer to him. "Yeah. It's me Gracie."

"How did this happen?" jack asked. "You haven't known him for ten years. You've known him for eight. You've never told me anything about her. You never told me you met some woman!" As the words came out of Jack's mouth, Karen stilled, feeling the pain slowly build.

"I met Will ten years ago at a party for Stanley. Stan wanted me to meet our new lawyer. Someone he was recommended to. It was Will. I hadn't seen him for a year and a half, not until I was hired to work for Grace. He told me that he was gay and I took it as that. It was just something that wouldn't hinder our friendship. But then everything changed last year."

"I wasn't good enough so you slept with Karen," Grace said in shock. "Go to hell Will," The three of them watched Grace pick up her coat and walk out of the apartment adding a quick slam to the door.

"Jackie," Karen barely whispered, her pleading him to stay. They watched him shake his head and mutter something before walking out of the apartment. She turned to Will who was giving her a small smile. "Oh my god,"

"Would you rather have lied to them?"

"They still may be here if I did." She shook her head and threw the paper away. "I've lost them. The two people I wanted to tell as soon as it happened just walked out. "

"It'll be okay Kare," Will said putting his hands on her shoulders. She pulled away and turned to him.

"No it won't be." She said. "I made a mistake."

"Really."

"I don't know, we may have rushed into this. Stan has only been dead for six months! I don't know how and if anyone would be able to get over someone's death so quickly."

"We won't get married right away Karen. It'll happen eventually. Not now."

"why are you pushing for this Will?"

"Why are you pushing against it? You told me that this was what you wanted. What _you_ needed to do to get over Stan." She shook her head. "Was I just a toy for you? Someone to go to, to sleep with to get over Stan's affairs and eventually death? I was wasn't I?"

"No." She said quickly. "You weren't someone I planned to sleep with. You weren't a toy. You were just supposed to be someone I could turn to. But then everything changed and I liked it. I liked the change."

"Why did you say yes then? Why did you say yes last night?"

"Because I want to get married again. I don't think I'd last long if I wasn't. You're not just some random person I met six months ago and told them to screw me. I didn't plan on enjoying you kissing me. And I didn't think I'd enjoy kissing you."

"You want to get married, but not to me."

"Are you listening to me?" She asked moving to his side. "I want to get married to you. I didn't plan on doing anything with you really. But when everything happened it was good. It made me happy. I didn't know how to be truly happy, without hiding it. You showed me how. That's why I said yes. That's why I said yes to everything you asked me to do."

"I don't know what to tell you Karen. I don't know if you really want this. Or if you're just telling me this to ease the pain."

"You're an ass." She said with no emotion. "Karen Walker doesn't do emotions. Karen Walker wouldn't be standing before you practically begging you to marry her. And to love her. Karen Walker would have told you that you were an idiot for asking her to marry you and walked out. But I'm still here. I've changed in these past six months. I haven't asked you to do anything for me. "

She picked up her bag and was ready to head out of the door, when she felt his hand take hold of her wrist. She looked at him, with a mixture of pain and love. She didn't know what to say and what she needed to say. "Don't leave," Was the only thing that came out of his. She nodded and he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms over her shoulders.

Engagement: promise to marriage, and also the period of time between proposal and marriage – which may be lengthy or trivial. The time for them to get married was unknown. The time may be years, but it wasn't going to be weeks. It may be a big church or city hall. It didn't matter. It didn't matter how long either. It would happen eventually.


	6. Fear of Children

**A/N- **To be completely honest.... this was hard. I'm not completely okay with the way it turned out, but hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: Don't own the characters.... Just Eloise and Aaron. **

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Fear

He watched her pace back and forth in the small space. He watched her stop for a few seconds, shake her head, and continue to pace. Whatever was going through her mind wasn't doing her any good. Her eyes were rimmed in red from the hours she had been crying. Her face was drained from the lack of sleep. Her clothes were disheveled from the times she attempted to sleep, in the plastic chairs or the soft seats in the back of Will's car. She wasn't capable of functioning, yet there she was pacing back and forth, fear etched all over her face.

He watched her hours before, hours before they received the phone call, pacing. She paced because she was thinking. Thinking about the future which he presented to her. Thinking about the type of house they'd buy and the children that would be running around. It was a dream that she had imagined, and the man she imagined it with was faceless, until two minutes ago. Two minutes before she said yes. Now she paced, coming up with plans, playing with her newly placed engagement ring.

His laughter stopped her, forcing her to turn around and lose hold of her straight face, immediately feeling it soften. He laughed at something she was doing, something she was unaware of. She hated when he did that; laughing at something that she did without her knowledge.

"You're going to tear a whole in the carpet if you keep it up. We don't have to get married next month. Hell, we can get married in the next decade if you want. There is nothing to worry about," He said taking her face in his hands, feeling the warmth in her cheeks warm up his own hands. He placed a kiss to her forehead, feeling the tension in her arms fade away.

Her pacing slowed slightly, her heels no longer hitting the linoleum with force causing it to echo down the hallway. Her heels were discarded at Will's feet, the thinness of the stockings allowed her to feel the unsanitary coldness of the floor. He could see her grip something invisible in her hand and letting it go. She repeated the gesture until he took her hands in his and pulled her to him.

"She's going to be okay. They are going to be okay," Will said watching her nod and making her way back to the counter that she had been pacing in front of and leaned against it. He watched her internal debate whether she should continue to pace or sink to the floor. She sunk to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and her forehead to her caps. She hadn't sensed him next to her, but it was the sudden warmth that wrapped around her shoulders, that allowed her to break.

It had been two months since she talked to him. She said good morning, made small talk, but not a full conversation. She couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't face him and tell him she was fine, when they both knew she wasn't. Nothing was the same anymore and they knew it. Everyone knew, Jack and Grace, Marilyn and George, Karen and Will, all knew that nothing would ever be the same.

The brown boxes that were marked Eloise were stacked in the hallway. Boxes containing clothes, toys, keepsakes, all lined the hallway leading to a bedroom painted in sky blue. Will found Karen sitting in the rocking chair, a chair she herself picked out.

"Hey, I didn't expect you to be in here," He said, leaning against the door frame. She turned to give him a sad smile, also revealing her red rimmed eyes, and pale cheeks.

"Don't know what else to do," She said. "I expect her to be running through here demanding ice cream or candy."

"She will be soon Kare," He promised her, gently placing a hand on her knee, as he kneeled in front of her. "She will be. Aaron is asleep and so is Eloise. They're both fine."

"I'm scared," She said, barely loud enough for him to here. He nodded. Before getting up and offering her his hand, he placed a kiss to her forehead.

He led her to their bedroom and watched her fall sleep. What he didn't realize that in hand she had Eloise's blanket she had gotten the year before. No doubt it smelled like cotton candy, sand, and Karen's perfume. He watched her chest move up and down, slowly, yet consistent. He watched her face contort as she dreamt something and soon relax. He watched the color slowly return to her face as she slept; full well knowing that it was going to be gone in the morning.

It had been a month since he proposed. A month since she sat in Eloise's rocking chair. A month since they had found out that the four year old girl, who had been the light of their lives for a year, was going to be fine, under certain circumstances. She wasn't allowed to get sick, in any way, shape, or form. She was only supposed to eat certain things; the list had been taped to the fridge. She wasn't allowed to go out at a certain time, due to the pollen levels. To put it simply, she was at risk for just about anything and possibly everything.

As Karen had predicted and Will promised, the day Eloise found the strength to walk again, she was in her parent's room demanding chocolate ice cream and cotton candy flavored jelly beans. Karen leaned up slightly to look at her daughter, who was dressed in a pink shirt and a pair of blue pants that sat slightly tight along her calves. Her dark curls sat on her shoulders, bobbing slightly, as Eloise anticipated the answer to be 'Yes' or 'Okay.'

"Eloise you know you can't have any of that." Karen said laying back down, resting her head on Will's chest. A groan escaped from Will as the weight of the bed shifted, feeling Eloise crawl in between them. She looked up at her mother with a puppy dog look which she inherited from Karen. "Nice try. No."

She turned her head to Will, whose eyes were still closed. "Don't even try El," He said wrapping an arm around the four year olds waist. "Soon," He said, feeling Karen place her hand on his. The little girl happily kissed Will on the cheek and jumped off the bed and making her way out of the bedroom, yelling her brother's name. Karen, once again, placed her head on Will's chest, feeling him drawing circles on her arm.

"Soon?" Karen asked, tightening her own arm around Will's waist.

"She's getting better Karen." He said, trying to convince himself more than her. "She's running around now, jumping, not getting tired. Soon enough she'll be able to eat properly without all the crap that we have to make her. She _will_ be fine."

"I know. I'm just scared. I'm still scared."Karen said. "When I heard that she had collapsed my heart stopped. When I heard that Aaron didn't want to leave her side, there was something in me that wanted to hold him to me. They're twins Will. They're twins with some sort of telepathic mindset. I would have much rather paced instead of dealing with a screaming four year old who didn't get his way."

It was when they had gotten the call that Eloise had collapsed that Karen felt the mother instinct kick in. It didn't matter that Will had proposed to her, it didn't matter that the four of them were going to move into something larger, and it definitely didn't matter that she was pregnant. What mattered was that she had a girl, whom she hadn't even formally adopted yet, collapse. Her pacing in the hospital was to prevent her from crying. Prevent her from doing something drastic.

Eloise was smiling at her mother, as she was fed a bowl of chocolate ice cream and cotton candy jelly beans a month and a half later. Karen smiled at her daughter as she threw the ridiculous food menu away. Aaron smiled up at his mother, who too fed him a bowl of chocolate ice cream. Karen caught Will's eye from across the room and smiled. He helped her through her fear of losing her children. He helped her through the fear of the endless amounts of fights over not being a good enough mother. He helped her through the fear of not having children on her own. He would always help her through her fears.


	7. Grace Adler Calling Grace Adler

GRACE

Grace was his best friend. Grace was his first real girlfriend, his first fiancé, his first everything almost; with a girl at least. He had come to tell her everything. Whether it was from the flirting of someone at a supermarket or the date he had the previous night. It had soon become, Will and Grace for any kind of wedding invitation. It was like that for years, until three years ago when a wedding invitation came for _Will and Guest. _There was no more Will and Grace; it was Will and Karen now.

Will stared at the picture of the four of them; Jack, Grace, Karen, and Will, all at some bar they had grown familiar with. Karen was leaning into Will, holding Jack's hand; Grace and Will conversing over some topic he doesn't remember; they looked happy. They were happy. He then shifted the picture to the back of the stack, putting Grace's wedding invitation in front. That was a year and a half ago that he received it. It was for Will Truman; no guest, just Will. All of its pieces were still together, including the RSVP card.

Karen watched him shift through the pile, not knowing what to do. She had tried to convince him that he wanted to go, that she wanted him there, but he didn't mark anything down or send it. In the end, they sat in the back row, closest to the door, watched the ceremony and snuck out before they were noticed. Karen had her own wedding to plan; and the one person she knew he wanted to be there, wasn't. Not because she didn't want to be there, but because she was too hurt to come.

"I got the RSVP cards today," Karen said, announcing her presence. She noticed as she sat down next to him, he waited for her response. "She said no Will,"

"Well I guess it's better than not sending one," He retorted. He finished the rest of his wine, and carelessly dropped the pile on the table, making his way into their bedroom, adding a slam to the door. She shook her head and made her way into the room, following him.

"You want her to go," Karen pointed out. "You wanted her to check yes, that she'd go. She's your best friend Will," a

"She was my best friend. My best friend would have been there when my dad died. My best friend would have been the person I was going to call when I proposed to you. My best friend would have been there holding my hand, while you fought for your life!"

"True." She said, agreeing with him and taking a seat next to him on the bed. "But Grace would have known I had gotten into a car accident or that your dad died if you would have called her. She would have known I had a miscarriage if you called her. She may not seem to care about much, but you saw a different Grace Adler than I did."

"I don't know if I really want her there." He said shrugging his shoulders. "We sent out twenty five invitations, hoping no one, but my parents and your friends from your side would come. I sent one to Grace, because I felt like I had to. I had to send one to her, hoping somewhere in the back of my mind that she'd say yes. She checked no, and I'm okay with that."

"You left Grace," Karen reminded. "You left Grace because she didn't like me. She thought I am wrong for you. It sounds a lot like the conversation you had with her about Danny doesn't it?"

"It's completely different,"

"Not really," She said with a small smile. "You thought Danny would cheat on her, make her into a different person that you weren't used to. She wanted you to be happy with her choice."

"She wasn't happy when I said we we're getting married. We yelled at each other for hours about the pros and cons about our marriage. She told me you'd get bored of me and just use me just for my money. "

"We've been together for three years Will, living under the same roof. There are days when I feel like screaming at you, wanting you to leave me alone, but then if I go too far, I'd die." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't want to be the reason for you not talking to Grace. I want you to tell her that your dad died. I want you to tell her about all the plans that we made for our new life. You don't need to make up excuses for not calling her. I'm not the excuse anymore."

"She won't want to talk to me,"

"You don't know that unless you call her," She said getting up from her place on the bed, leaving the phone in her place. "Call her and let her know what's happening."

It had been two weeks and he still hadn't called her. Karen hadn't mentioned Grace and calling again. It irritated her that he wouldn't call and he picked up on that fact, and for a while he fed off that annoyance. Seeing how irritated Karen could get before actually breaking and mentioning it again, but it never came. He was now sitting and staring at the black phone sitting on the coffee table, debating whether or not he should dial the numbers that became a habit to dial. Whether or not she was still there, or he would get someone else.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang once, then twice more, and one the fourth one, was the breaking point causing him to hang up the phone. If she answered, what would he say? If she didn't answer was a message necessary? He didn't want to leave a message, he couldn't leave a message. They never left each other messages.

Karen watched from the doorway. He wanted to call her, she was right. He was debating with himself for a long time; she could see it in his face. Even if she called herself, there was nothing she'd say to Grace, other than 'Call Will'.

"714-556-6247." Karen said entering the room. "Her phone number."

"I know what it is," He said carelessly tossing the phone to his side. "What if it's a wrong number? Or someone else answers."

"You don't know until you've tried." She said. "Plus, you still know she lives at the same place since you got a reply."

"True." He said placing a hand on Karen's knee. "What if she answers and wants to know why I haven't called? What do I tell her then?"

"Whatever you want to." She said, placing her hand over his, stilling it. "Tell her the truth, tell her lies. Whatever you think will be what she'd want to hear." Karen placed a kiss to his cheek, and stood up. She placed her palm to his cheek. "She'll be glad to hear from you Will. She'll want to know what's been happening with you. Trust me."

He watched her leave and eyed the phone. After three years of not saying a word to her, there was so much to say. So much had happened for the both of them. He eyed the clock on the side of the bed, smiling at the times. It was time for re-runs of ER with George Clooney. He could imagine her sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a bowl of chocolate ice cream, watching. He heard the faint click and smiled. "Hey Gracie,"

Karen Walker, on the other side of the door smiled. She made herself comfortable on the couch with some magazine she picked up on her way home, full well knowing that the phone would be busy for a while. Everything took a while with Grace.


	8. Emotional Parks

Emotions

The park had become a place of peace. A place where Karen would go to unwind and to simply breathe. The bench she was sitting on, had become her weekly seat whenever she'd come to the park. It was right in front of the multi colored jungle gym that kids were running around on and climbing. They children seemed happy, which was the reminder that Karen didn't need, especially on Sundays.

She used to love Sundays. She used to enjoy Sundays. Now she hated them, wanting to be isolated and cold instead of enwrapped in a pair of arms that were warm and loving. She had the warm arms and happiness six years ago. She had a family six years ago. Now she had Will, and despite the fact that there wasn't enough time and space to explain her feelings for him, it just wasn't the same. He wasn't the same as what she was used to; she missed them.

Karen recognized some children who had been there from the week before and those who were new. She listened to the parents who were on their phones, keeping one eye on their child and their other along with their mind occupied by something else. She hated that. She hated that parents didn't give their children their full attention even if their children wasn't paying attention to them.

Karen recognized the fathers that accompanied their children, watching their daughters or sons run the course of the jungle gym, waiting at the bottom of the slide to take their child into the strong arms. She smiled at the joy the children expressed to see their parent at the bottom of the slide. She smiled at the happiness to see the jungle gym; the big play thing that was silently calling their name. She smiled at the sudden sadness that other's happiness brought her.

She stiffened at the sudden warmness that was suddenly at her side. She knew who it was, not knowing who to look to see Will sitting next to her. She felt his arm around her shoulders pulling her into his side and a light kiss to her temple. He never needed to say anything to get her to melt into his side. "What are you doing here?" He asked, barely a whisper.

"I always come here." She said as if it were the most obvious thing. "I love this park," She felt his hand take hers, tugging her lightly. She looked up at him with questions in her eyes.

"Walk with me," It wasn't a demand, but a simple request. He pulled her into his side, once they were on their feet. They walked in silence for a few feet, around a small hedge, disappearing from the child filled place. He was her instant heater, the warmth radiating off him constantly. "Why were you out here?"

"I come here to escape,"

"From who? Me?" She laughed lightly.

"Never from you. Just from life in general. I hate it when I feel like I'm constricted. I hate feeling like I'm supposed to be doing something that I'm not. The park is just a quick escape for me." She felt like she was rambling and not making a lot of sense. "I've been coming here for six-" She stopped herself realizing he didn't know what her past was made up of.

He smirked at her sudden pause. _Years. Months. _It was a time piece she wanted to say; that much he knew. "You've been coming here for a while." She looked at him and he just shrugged his shoulders. "You never go shopping with Jack on Sundays. You never go to lunch with me on Sundays. Jack came looking for you today and mentioned something about seeing you at the park. He didn't mention which one and this is walking distance from the house."

"I come for the kids," She said truthfully. "I come for them and see what changes they go through. Now that I think about it it's rather creepy."

"It's maternal." He told her, feeling her stiffen. He stopped and looked at her, taking her face in his hands. "You've been a mother." He stated, watching the tears build up in her eyes, giving away the truth to the lie she wanted to tell. She slowly started to back away, being stopped by his hand around her wrist.

"Let go of me," She pleaded. He shook her head. "Please Will."

He let her go and he watched her walk away, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She didn't look back knowing he was watching her. She wanted to run into his arms and tell him everything, but not at the park and not on a Sunday. This was her place to go, and if she told him, it wouldn't mean anything. She stopped at a light post, panting and wiping her tears away. She knew he watched her walk away, but when she stopped she turned and was met with the black of his coat. Her tears came easily with him, feeling safe and feeling like it was okay to cry. "Tell me what happened Karen,"

"He was in a car accident. My son was three and there was a car accident, " She started. "My husband, the after Stan, had gotten into a car after we had a fight and his car was found on the side of the road thirty minutes after he left. He told me he was going to take my son out for ice cream, needing to calm himself down a bit. I got a call from the hospital saying that my son was there and that it would be in my best interest to come down. He was three, Will. My son was three and he was living on a tube." Her voice broke at the end.

"It's okay Kare-"He soothed, rubbing her back, allowing her tears to come. "I'm right here," He was gripping the lapels of his jacket, her fingers whitening.

"He liked blue berries." She whispered. "That's why I eat them in the morning. He'd eat olives on his fingers, pretending they were puppets. It's why I don't drink with olives anymore. He'd drink orange juice in a big boy cup, making him smile. It's why I cringe every time you bring them out."

"You don't have to explain anything to me Karen," He said tightening his grip around her waist. "You don't have to explain anything."

"You saw the sippy cup underneath the bathroom sink and didn't ask me anything. I watched you pull it out and put it back. Why didn't you ask me?"

"Just thought you'd tell me when you wanted to." He said with a small shrug. "It's okay Karen."

"The blue jacket that you asked me about. The one in the closet? That was his. We were in the process of moving, and the jacket was the only thing I had left." She said sadly. "The jacket and his cup which they found in the car with his car seat. I didn't want the car seat knowing he-"She couldn't say it. She already said to her therapist that she didn't want the car seat because it was where he started to fight for his life.

"Come on, let's get you home," He said kissing her hair and wrapping her arm around her shoulders feeling her press herself into his side.

Karen Walker didn't do emotions. She hated them. She hated pretending she cared when she didn't. She hated pretending she didn't care when she did. She was a different person to everyone who knows her. She's a heartless bitch to some. She's the most down to earth person to others. Yes Karen Walker didn't do emotions, but she sure as hell had them.


	9. Forgiving and not forgetting

Forgiveness wasn't something he was willing to give. At the sight of her after three years, every emotion ranging from anger to pure an utter happiness rendered him speechless. He tried to remind himself of the speech he had prepared in the case she did return. He'd pathetically beg for her to stay; he'd do anything to get her to stay. Now at the sight of her sitting not too far from him with a child on her lap, no sound coming out of his mouth would have been polite or coherent.

He was hoping she hadn't spotted him as he made his way out of the coffee shop. If she had stayed in the city, he hadn't seen her and it irritated him. The woman in the cafe didn't even look like Karen. The woman wasn't sitting upright, as if she had a metal pole for a spine; she was slightly slouched listening intently to everything the boy on her lap was saying. Her features were genuinely softened, not strained and forced. Her chocolate brown hair was past her shoulders in a series of waves, instead of a bun or a normal up-do. Despite the differences, it was the laugh that was the deciding factor that got him out of his seat and the restaurant.

The abrupt change in temperature went unnoticed. He was too warm and too flustered to care anyway. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to even notice she was now in front of him with the small boy at her side. He was watching her in a trance. She was five feet away, three full steps away, and his feet were planted to the spot he was standing in. It was after she fixed the boy's blue jacket and lifted him, that her eyes caught his. A smile immediately lit up her features and it disappeared when the smile wasn't returned. Her hand was rubbing her son's back as she beckoned for him to follow.

He followed them to a small park around the corner from the cafe. They had walked past it on their way home most mornings; if they were that patient. Will had heard the boy giggle at something she had done or said and he squirmed to get put down. Once she did, he made a beeline for the swings, obviously not paying attention to Karen's warning words. He went to her side slowly.

"Took you long enough," Karen said as Will finally made his way to her side. "I thought you would have said something at the cafe."

"I didn't know what to say then." He replied honestly. "I still don't know what to say."

"His name is Jonah," She informed him in regards to his current sights. "He's turning two and a half next month."

"He looks like a good kid."

"Hopefully. He's stubborn like his father, but he's extremely generous. "

"He has your laugh and your eyes." She smiled at the observation.

"And he has your hair and your smile." She added. He nodded and there was a faint smile at the news. "He's a lot like you actually."

"When did you find out you were pregnant?"

"The morning I told you about the car accident and my first son." She said taking a deep breath. "I had just come from the doctor's office telling me I was three months pregnant. Didn't you ever wonder why I spent most mornings in the bathroom?"

"You told me you had the flu, I believed you. I didn't know."

"But I did. You'd think after being pregnant two other times I'd know the symptoms."

"Kare- I could have been there for you. I would have been there."

"And what I miscarried this time? How would you have reacted?" When there was no answer, a small smile graced her lips. "Exactly. I didn't need the stress of not being able to see another one of my children grow and my husband not speaking to me as if it was my entire fault."

"But you did make the decision. You went to the office and signed all the papers all on your own." He said inching closer. "You didn't even tell me you were going."

"No. I didn't, but you knew about it. You and I made the decision. You, the man who couldn't dare make another woman mad, helped me make the decision. Were you getting tired of holding my hair back in the mornings? Or were you pissed off because you weren't having a child with the right woman?" She hadn't realized she was backed up against the tree until she felt the bark in the small of her back. His lips were hovering above hers and she smiled up at him.

The kiss was quick, soft, and full of emotion she had missed. "Yes I made the decision with you. Yes I regret it now that I see Jonah. I've always wanted a family and for a while I thought Grace was my only option. At the time Grace needed me and I felt obliged. You left and everything fell apart."

Out of the corner of her eye, Karen saw Jonah making her way back to her. She quickly wiped the tear that was threatening to fall away, and slipped on the mask Will was so used to seeing. She smiled at her son who jumped into her arms. She kissed his cheek, causing him to giggle. The mask was replaced by something more maternal; a look Will would need time to get used to.

Will had been requested to spend the rest of the day with them. Jonah, to the best of his ability, asked what Will did and who he was to Karen. Karen changed the subject, but it wasn't forgotten. Jonah asked it repeatedly a different way every time. It soon became a two year olds version of 20 questions. Karen and Will would walk close to each other, holding each other's hand; never overstepping a boundary. They'd find each other's lips, even for a quick second, they seemed to be completely at ease with each other. Jonah didn't seem to be bothered at all by the new man who had been kissing his mother.

"Do you want to come over?" Karen asked, shifting a sleeping Jonah in her arms. "I mean, he should be asleep for a while, but if you don't-"

"I do. Grace shouldn't be home for another hour or so." She nodded as she fished through her purse one handedly looking for her keys. Smiling, Will took the boy out of her arms. He stirred, opened his eyes slightly and then buried his face into Will's neck.

The door swung open and Karen moved aside allowing Will into the apartment. Jonah's head shot up and turned to face the man sitting at what Will assumed was Karen's kitchen table. "Daddy!" Jonah screamed squirming out of Will's arms and into the other man's. Will took a look at a now stunned Karen and made his way back out of the apartment.

He was just about on the street when he felt Karen's warm hand around his wrist. "Don't you dare leave." She threatened.

"Who is he?"

"He was with me when Jonah was born. He just wants to make sure I'm okay with everything."

"He's in love with you. Or he wouldn't be there sitting at your table as if he was supposed to be there. He belongs there Karen. Not me."

"God damn it Will." Karen yelled her voice breaking. "I don't want him there. I didn't even want him there when Jonah was born. The day he called him Daddy my heart broke and I begged him to correct him, but he never does. You're his father in every sense of the word Will. I want you there to teach him how to play baseball and how to do things I won't be able to teach him."

Will shook his head and freed the grasp around his wrist making his way down the street away from Karen. She struggled not to break down in the middle of the crowd. She was still the same strong woman he fell in love with. She shook her head and made her way back into the apartment, kicking the man out, demanding that he never return, and explaining to a very confused Jonah who Will really was.

She woke up the next morning to a bouquet of white lilies and a note attached. _Come to the kitchen. _She struggled out of bed, and made her way into the kitchen and smiled at the sight in front of her. It was Will and Jonah, covered in powder, laughing at each other. Karen made her way up behind Jonah quietly and tickled him. His laughter pierced their ears, but it was the kiss between his parents that silenced him. The kiss for Karen was everything she needed to have. She was forgiven for anything and everything she did to Will. Will was forgiven for anything and everything he did to her.


	10. Honesty on September 25th

_I have been married three times – True. Divorced twice. One died. _

_I am a mother. –True. I have had three children. All in different stages. One I aborted. One died in a car accident and one is asleep in the next room. _

_I am a wife. – True. I am married now. _

_I am happy. –Semi-True. I have my days still when I want to run. But it's my family who get me through the day thankfully. _

_I am honest. – Unfortunately. No._

Karen Walker, or Karen Truman, didn't believe in being honest with anyone. It meant trusting someone enough for them to know everything about her and she couldn't have that. It wouldn't have worked right anyway. She did trust Will, she loved Will, but it wasn't enough trust to let him in on the finer details of her insane and extremely sad past. He'd never understand, she thought, why and how she became the money hungry wife she had been before him. He'd never understand the real reason why she ran when she was pregnant with Jonah or the real reason why she had sent him divorce papers already signed. If she was honest with him, then she'd have to be honest with herself, and after years of trying to come up with the perfect semi-flawless past; that was never going to happen.

She stared at the black book tied together in red ribbon, made by her years before, months before her first son was born. Her son's weight was written at the top of the first page, along with his name. She traced her nail along the curvy path in which she wrote it, the irony of the name now. She had written everything down. Every positive and negative memory, every idea that she had for her son's room, everything she had come to regret in life. She flipped to the middle of the book, where she had written Jonah's birthday and weight in the corner like she had done before.

_They will never be a replacement which is why I went today. I told Will something else. I don't want a replacement family. I've tried that and it failed. _

She was able to hear her 3 year old son laughing and giggling, trying to be quiet. His feet thumping lightly against the carpet in his parent's bedroom, trying to be sneaky about waking them up. It was the maternal sense that Karen had come to pick up, in both her children it was different. With her first she was able to tell apart the small and shallow breathing from her husband. And now she was able to tell whose soft padding feet was now tiptoeing up to her bed getting ready to jump. It was the covers being thrown back and the little boy being picked up swiftly that made the dead silent room erupt in laughter. Will groaned, turning over to bury his face in his pillow.

Karen brought her finger up to her lips, hushing the little boy who nodded his head. He crawled into his mother's lap, burying his face into her neck, slowly falling back asleep as the tips of her nails went up and down his smooth back tricking him into sleep. Karen kissed his hair, shifting them so they were both in a more comfortable position. She felt her son's breathe steady out, shifting him once more, so he was on his back in between both parent's, with Karen's hand laying protectively against his stomach. She couldn't have dealt with all the pain if Jonah had gotten into the car accident, or any accident for that matter.

_Today is the anniversary. Jonah is one. I'm alone with no one but Christopher; whom I've been told is in love with me. I hope not. I can't bring myself to care about him. Not in the same way. _

Will watched Karen and Jonah race around the small grassy mound, trying to hide from each other. Jonah erupted into laughter every time he was picked up. Karen laughed at her son's antics of catching her, going the opposite way in order to catch him instead of what it was supposed to be. In Will's eyes, she was happier. She wasn't so closed off from him, he was telling her more about her past. Some he knew was true, some seemed fictionalized, but it didn't matter to him. Nothing about her past mattered to him. He focused on their future and the possible idea that one day they'd have a daughter.

Being around Karen, he'd learn to dream and put it off for a while. Eventually his thoughts and ideas came to life, but it became a rarity. And although he wanted to find a man or a woman who could bring them all to life, but it was Karen and she was an exception. She gave him a family; a woman he loved and would do practically anything for and a son who was absolutely amazing. She found a way, consciously or not, to find a place in his heart, getting him to marry her and he was glad she did. Twice she did it and he wouldn't have wanted it either way.

_I'm in white again. I hate white. I hate weddings. I hate the whole wedding ceremony. I hate making vows to someone that may not be there in a year or two. But Will seems different. I hope he's different. _

"Karen," She heard Will calling. She was sitting in the kitchen flipping through a magazine. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"Jonah's birthday is coming up," He pointed out. "What are we going to do?"

"He wants zoo animals. Or he wants to go to the zoo." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. He changes his mind every day."

He watched her close the magazine and go over to the fridge pulling out an orange and throwing it unceremoniously onto the counter. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Next Wednesday is the day my son was in a car accident." She pointed out. He looked up at her, speechless. "I always am going to hate Wednesday, but I have to pretend to love it."

"We can go to the zoo and we can come back and you can cry."

"I've cried every year and I've told Jonah they were happy tears. I never say crap like that Will. I never say anything like 'happy tears'"

"You're a mother Karen. It comes with the package. "

"Yeah, but," She was stopped by Will's hands cupping her face.

"No buts. You've baby talked with Jonah and he's three. It's a habit." He smiled. "You probably did it with you first son."

"Will." He placed a kiss to her forehead. "No not you. My son. His name was William. My first husband wanted to name him after royalty, so he chose William. It's why I hated you so much when we first met."

Her admittance only caused him to tighten his grip around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He rubbed her back soothingly as she began to cry."You'll be fine Karen. I'm not planning on going anywhere."

"I can't lose him Will. I can't lose Jonah and I can't lose you. I won't be able to deal with the pain again."

"I know," He whispered. "I know"

_I love my family- Semi True. I love certain people, not all of them. The one's who force me to live in a world of confusion, I've learned to despise. _

"Mrs. Walker, would you like the blue or the yellow." The voices were far, but the faces were near. "Mrs. Walker?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like blue carnations or yellow carnations for the center pieces?"

"The yellow." Karen said as if the question was preposterous. She had come to realize early on in her marriage to Stan that he had a fascination with Yellow. He bought yellow shirts, yellow ties and yellow roses for her; he had an odd attraction to the bright and shiny yellow, which often was the opposite of her mood.

"Don't you think the yellow would contradict the red curtains and the green table clothes?" The event planner asked.

"No. Mr. Walker wanted those colors for a reason. And whatever that reason is, let's just go with it. As horrible as they may be, he chose them."

"Mr. Walker is a confusing man." The planner muttered.

"Oh don't I know it." Karen replied with a smile. It wasn't a sarcastic smile, but a genuine one. It was for yet another confusing topic as to why it was such a good idea the lawyer had to be brought along. But none the less, she was happy.

_September 25__th__ I'm supposed to be blessed. But I'm blessed and cursed. _

Will watched Karen slowly rock their son to sleep. The four year old had gotten his wish to go to the zoo, but cried all the way home and for another hour about how unfair it was that he had to leave. Little did he know that he was going to pass out in his mother's arms as soon as she started to hum. Karen slowly moved up and out of her seat, allowing Jonah to shift in her arms once, before he whimpered at the sudden coldness as he was placed down on the couch. She smiled and bushed the hair out of his face.

"I was so nervous to let him out of my sight today. Even when you took him off to see the birds, I felt like I was going to go home alone." She admitted as she watched her son breathe peacefully. "How do I explain to a four year old, why every day before and after his birthday I cry."

"You'll come up with something clever." He said pressing a kiss to her temple. "Come to bed. He'll sleep here all night."

Karen placed a kiss to her son's head. "You would have loved your brother Will, Jonah. Too bad he died today."

_I know who I am- True. I'm Karen Delaney Truman. _

_I have a husband- True. His name is Will. _

_I am happier now than in the past- Not a hundred percent, but yes I am happier. _

_September 25__th__ is the worst day and the best day of my life- True. But thank god I got married to Will again on that day, or else I would have gone insane. _


	11. Imagining Addiction

Karen Walker had found herself in this position before. Her back was bare, feeling the morning breeze, the sun waking her up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets as she forced her body to sleep more. Like most times before, she'd wake up in someone's bedroom with no recollection of how she got there. In many instances it was drug or alcohol induced, but by the smell of coffee and pastries, she came to realize that this instance was induced by reality for once.

She buried her head deeper into the pillow, pulled the sheet around her waist tighter, and moaned at the gentleness of the kiss that was pressed against her shoulder blade. She had never woken up like this, in Will's arms, Stan's or anyone else's bed she selfishly shared. She smiled at the faint circles her newest partner was drawing into her back. It was gentle, not forced, not a message to give him anything else. It was more of a sign of trust than anything else and surprisingly enough, she enjoyed it. She never let anyone touch her; even her husband, a man she forced herself to fall in love with wasn't allowed to touch her like that.

She felt the dip in the bed next to her and rolled onto her side, full well knowing that her partner was going to wrap his arm around her yet again. This felt right, yet extremely uncomfortable. Part of her wanted her mind to be playing tricks on her and yet she knew they weren't. Laying there she remembered getting onto a plane, getting off of the plane, acting like a woman who had never seen such a beautl;'piful, remote place, and fit in perfectly. And then she remembered why she was there.

"Morning," He said, kissing her shoulder, feeling her back into his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Karen said honestly. "I don't know how we got out of there, but we did it."

"I'm not too sure there are going to be a lot of people happy with this." He rolled over onto his back, watching Karen roll onto her front looking up at him through her lashes. "Especially once everyone knows."

"Will," She said cautiously. "Are you sure this was a good idea? Running off with me just because Grace said you couldn't have a stable relationship with a man much less a woman? Surely this is some ploy to get back at her."

Karen felt him drop a kiss to her head and smiled. "This, right here, being in bed with you, bringing you breakfast in bed is the best idea I've had in a long time. Being anywhere with you lately seems to be a good idea."

He leaned over her and kissed her. It was filled with passion, need, and something entirely different; a feeling that she had never felt before. To say the least, she liked it, correction, she loved it. There was some sort of protectiveness she felt as she laid there in bed with him, with his one arm draped over her back. It was a feeling of protection that she hadn't felt in a long time. The more she thought about it, she hadn't felt this at ease with any of her husband's and or lovers. She smiled at the realization and turned her head to face him.

Will had fallen back asleep. She had come to the conclusion before turning around since his breath on her neck had steadied. Bringing one arm out from under her, she traced the softened lines along his face and traced his lips, remembering the night before when he did the same to her. If it had been a month before, possibly even less, she would have gagged at the sappiness of the situation. She didn't do happiness with her lovers. She'd get screwed, get up and leave. There was never waking up in the morning feeling giddy and extremely happy; both her feelings presently.

"You don't like people watching you sleep, so why are you doing it to me?" Will asked, his eyes still closed. Her finger stopped under his chin.

"You look comfortable and peaceful." She admitted. Will groaned and rolled out of arms length from Karen, getting up and out of the bed, slipping on a pair of boxers and shorts. Karen sat up, tightening the sheet around her. "What?"

"I need some air. I need to think," he said looking for a shirt. "We shouldn't have done this." He muttered to himself.

"We shouldn't have done what? Slept together? Ran away together?" He turned to take a look at Karen, immediately regretting it. Her paleness looked tan against the bleached white sheet, her hair was tossed over to the side, her hazel eyes were shining in the ray of sun; she was perfect. "Will?"

"You're insane, you know that?" He started off with. "You pay people off who get hit by your driver so you don't get sued. You could open an entire market on just your alcohol alone. You stay up all night and all day, and you take pills for insomnia, which you fight so you don't sleep. You lie to get out of almost everything. You cheat to get out of everything. And by god you're aggravating sometimes."

"So what you're going to pack up and leave? Go run back to Grace and tell her she was right?" He stopped mid action. His shirt waiting in between his hands to be put on. Will tossed it to the side and crawled in front of Karen.

"No. She's wrong. She will always be wrong. But on top of being insane and aggravating, you're sexy. Watching me sleep is something you _never_ do. It's why you don't sleep. You're here in my bed, our bed, and I just want to ravish you. I want to make love to you all day long if it was possible. But there will sometime in our future where we're going to have to pace ourselves." She looked to the side, for once actually thinking about what he said. He tangled his hand in her hair at the base of her neck, bringing his lips to hers, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue.

Karen let go of the sheet taking his face in her hands, kissing him deeper. He leaned into her, pushing her down into a position they were in less than an hour before. He spread her legs open a little more with his knee, allowing himself to lie on top of her. "So this is called pacing ourselves?"

"You see what my dilemma is? You're addicting." He said pressing one more kiss to her lips before rolling off of her. She groaned as she watched him walk away to the double doors leading out onto a patio that they christened mere hours after their arrival. She got up, wrapped herself in the sheet and approached him from behind, placing a kiss to his shoulder before looking over it.

"Grace said that I was sleeping with you to get free services since you're my lawyer. I'm not sleeping with you because you're my lawyer."

"I know."

"I'm sleeping with you because I want to. " She said with a small smile. "This may sound completely ridiculous, but I like sleeping with you. The sex is great but it's everything after that I've come to enjoy. It's never happened to me before, but with you I seem to love it." Will opened the double doors and took a seat on one of the wicker chairs that came with the suite. It was the small look he shot Karen over his shoulder that beckoned for her to come.

He reached out his hand and she took it, being gently placed on his lap. He kissed her forearm, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other laying across it. "You're sleeping with me because you enjoy it?" He watched her nod. "You, out of you and Diane and maybe someone else in college; you're the most entertaining?"

She turned in her spot to look down at him. He was looking up at her with a small smirk. "I'm entertaining?"

"You are. And at times I thought I was imagining you waking up next to me. " He said, kissing her palm this time. Karen smiled at Will whose attention had gone to the people below them on the beach. None of them seemed to notice Karen and Will up on their balcony patio, which for them it was a blessing.

He kissed her arm once again, before getting up, holding her in place. He pulled her into their room, slamming the double doors shut. He was ready for more entertaining. "Are you imagining anything right now?" She asked as she was once again laid down on the bed.

"Millions of things," He replied.

Right then and there, Karen Walker fell in love with Will Truman. She fell in love with him and his imagination.


	12. Juice Kids and Grownup

Juice

She never needed an excuse to drink. She never needed to explain herself when she did. When she arrived at home completely inebriated, she had to force herself to make coherent sentences for her maids or at times for Stanley. Karen Walker had a reputation to up hold. Walking around drunk was not a part of the perfect image she had so carefully painted. It was her job to make people believe she could hold her liquor and not let it affect her. But once again it was an image she had to protect.

Karen could have cursed herself for telling children that wine was juice. It was in a sense, but only for adults. Something their parents would drink with a cookie, while they themselves actually drank the real grape juice. She could have killed Grace for telling her she would have been a horrible parent. But Karen kept her cool as much as possible; Grace didn't know that she had in fact been a mother. It hurt horribly to be told she wasn't a good mother. It almost killed her.

That night Karen Walker went home and drank herself to sleep off of her two adult juice boxes of Grape Wine. She wasn't planning on needing to explain herself the moment she walked into the house why her eyes were red, or why her cheeks were stained with tears; she never explained herself to anyone. But it was the pair of hazel eyes that coerced her into a tale. A tale that ended up with Karen sleeping next to someone who was not her husband and not someone she'd ever think of.

"How's your head?" Will asked, rolling onto his side facing Karen. She shrugged her shoulders, attempting to sit up, her head started to spin.

"Hurting. How much did I have to drink?"

"Two boxes." He said blatantly. "And you didn't even consider sharing."

She assumed it was an attempt at humor, but with her headache, nothing seemed funny. Nothing in her room seemed different. Everything was in its normal place, the only thing out of the ordinary were the clothes strewn everywhere. She looked at Will and he was shirtless. Damn. She felt for her clothes, but the only thing that that she wearing were her bra and her poor excuse for underwear. Another Damn. She couldn't have done it. She couldn't have.

The light touch against her arm sent her mind into overdrive. It was the same light touch against her arm as she stood at her bedroom door telling Will to leave. It was the same light touch she felt against her cheek as he pulled her face closer to his kissing her lips slowly and coaxing her mouth open. It was the same light touch against her inner thigh as she was laid down against her silk sheets. It was the same light touch that cascaded down her body, and then there was the whisper. "Damn it." She said getting up and out of bed. "Damn you," She said turning around facing Will.

"I didn't think you'd remember." He said quietly. "And now you regret it."

"I was drunk!" She yelled. "I didn't need you to be here and get me to explain myself. I made a mistake and I had to deal with it on my own!"

"You talked to me. You told me you knew the differences between adult juice and children juice." He said getting out of bed, wrapping a sheet around his lower half. "You told me that Grace hurt you. You told me that you wish you'd never offered to help her babysit."

"I wanted to babysit. I like kids." She informed him. "I like kids, just not other peoples sometimes." She looked down at the floor. "I want my own kids. I always have. I just don't want to lose them ag-"She stopped herself and looked up at Will. "I don't want to lose them. I don't know how anyone can live with losing a child."

He stepped up to her placing his hand against her cheek. "Don't let anyone tell you anything different Karen. If you want children have them. If you want to find a way to babysit kids without making a fool of yourself, just be maternal. It'll work in your favor." She placed her forehead against his chest, her tears starting to wet his chest. She felt the tips of his fingers running up and down her back, lulling her into a calmer state.

"What did we do last night?"

"You begged me to hold you," He said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you begged me to make you forget life,"

"And you did," She smiled. He nodded and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, "

He nodded his head and disappeared into her en-suite bathroom. He found Karen twenty minutes later wrapped up in bed, smiling to himself and shaking his head he crawled in behind her, draping an arm over her side. "You okay,"

"I'm starting to regret some things." She murmured into her pillow. "What if,"

"What if what?"

"Never mind." She rolled onto her back. "Will you stay here with me?"

He pressed his lips against hers, feeling him smile against her, she placed her hand against his cheek. "Karen," She heard him call. "Kare are you okay?"

She opened her eyes and everything suddenly disappeared. Will wasn't in bed with her; she didn't have a horrible headache, just sixteen pairs of eyes looking at her. "Mamma, you told me you'd get me some juice," Jonah reminded. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that conversation.

The people dispersed, Jonah left as soon as he was handed a juice box with non alcoholic juice. She had realized Will hadn't left the room yet. He eyed her warily, with an eyebrow raised. "What the hell was that about?"

"I was just thinking about something," She told him honestly. "I haven't been feeling well lately,"

"What were you thinking about? You seemed completely out of it."

"Do you remember when Grace asked me to babysit Rob and Ellen's monster children?" She smiled lightly. "What did we do that night?"

"You got drunk and I slept on the floor." She looked up at him in shock, feeling completely and utterly stupid. The heat pooled in her cheeks. He placed his glass of wine next to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I slept on the floor after you kicked me out of bed, " He whispered.

"You're an ass Mr. Truman," She said, feeling him grin against her cheek. "That was pretty good."

"It was better than good," He said, pulling her out of her chair. "That was great,"

He led her into the room full of people. She had wrapped her arm around Will's waist, with his glass of wine tight in her own grasp. Jonah was sipping happily at his own drink and smiled at his mother as she entered the room.

She always hated grape juice as a child. Now, she loved it. Both alcoholic and non alcoholic.


	13. Kiki, Kare, or Karen

Kiki

_Kiki_. She's always hated that nickname. It had started off with her father and then her mother, and then it all together stopped the day she left and she couldn't have been more pleased. It was her father who began calling her Kiki and she loved it then. It was when he died and her mother adopted the pet name that she grew to despise it. It soon replaced her real name and that's what made her mad more than anything else.

Kiki was her father's nickname. It was her father's choice to call her that when she was a child. It was her father who'd call her Kiki when she was being childish and stubborn. But she was always _his _Kiki. No one else's. It was more of a nickname for moments of tenderness. When she had done something he disagreed with she was reverted back to Karen. But even when he was stern, there was tenderness towards her. He'd never use Kiki when he was angry with her. He'd never call her Kiki if she was angry. It had become a mutual agreement when they were both angry, the nickname Kiki would never be used.

With her mother, the nick name Kiki had become her favorite word. _Kiki go get me some milk. _Her mother would say. Or _Kiki can you not sit on the couch that way. _ There was never tenderness and as much as her mother tried to make it seem believable, nothing ever seemed to be. Her mother was so used to faking everything, the line between truth and a simple lie got blurred. The lines for Lois Delaney always were blurred.

As Karen waited for her mother to arrive at the coffee shop, she was glad she hadn't given her son a nickname. It wouldn't have pleased him much to be called J. Or Jo. Jonah was enough of a nickname she thought; even if it was his whole name. She eyed a woman who was with who Karen assumed was her daughter; fixing the girls dress. The woman tugged the hem of it down, flattening out of creases, fixing her daughter's bow in her hair; something that reminded Karen of her own mother. It was not pleasant. It was the chime of the bell that brought Karen's attention to the door and to her mother.

"Kiki," She said happily opening her arms wide. Karen, as usual went to her mother and was enveloped into a hug. "You've changed."

"I've had two children," Lois looked surprised at her daughter. "I've had two boys. Two boys are a lot bigger than girls."

"Where are these two sons of yours?" The pain flashed briefly across Karen's face.

"Jonah is out with his father, and my other son is dead." Lois's small smile disappeared.

"When did you have your first son?"

"Didn't you get my letter?" Karen asked her mother before drinking some of her coffee. "I sent you a letter with a picture."

"Oh Kiki I didn't get it," She let the nickname slide. For now. "I've been traveling so much lately."

"It wasn't lately. It's been years." Karen eyed her mother who sighed and smiled at her daughter.

"So where is Jonah? You mentioned he's out with his father? Who is his father?"

"Do you remember Will Truman? He's a friend of Jack's; the man who came down to your bar that one year?"

"I remember Jack. But Will,"

"He was with the red head," Lois shook her head, her face lighting up at the sudden remembrance

"He was the other gay one right? How did you get him to fall in love with you Kiki?" Karen took a deep breathe. Knowing Lois, it wasn't intended to sound harsh. But it did.

"It happened mother. And now I have a son." Karen reiterated. "It tends to happen when you sleep with someone without protection."

"So you aren't married to him?" Karen held up her left hand to show off her engagement and wedding ring. "But is he still gay?"

"Honestly mother," Karen sighed.

"It's a simple question Kiki. I wouldn't want my grandson to be living a lie."

"My name is Karen mother. Not Kiki and no Will is no longer gay. Yes he still admires men but he sleeps with me. And _my _son knows what a lie is and what the truth is. Something I had to learn about on my own." With that Karen stood grabbed her coat and walked outside. She nearly made it into the cab, before her mother's hand caught her wrist, pulling her back onto the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry Kiki. I didn't mean to make you angry. I was-"

"You were doing what you always did mother. I'm not a child anymore. I'm a grown woman who has a life of her own. I don't need _you_ telling me how to raise my son. Jonah is big enough to know what's right from wrong. He knows that his parents love him and each other. And the most important thing is, my six year old son knows that whatever happens to him when he gets older, I will always, and I mean _always, _always be there for him. He won't have to deal with the same pain I did growing up. I will have the decency to show up at his first wedding instead of sending him a post card from wherever I'm currently at, scamming my way to another vacation spot!" Karen hadn't noticed the pairs of eyes that were currently looking at her as she took her anger out on her mother. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get home to my son."

With that Karen Truman called a cab and got into it, leaving her mother standing speechless on a New York street. There was something other than pride that Karen was feeling. There was lightness on her shoulders. The years of pent up anger and guilt that she had been feeling suddenly vanished. She was feeling quite proud of herself for standing up to her mother the way she did. It wasn't something she'd ever do. But she was a different woman now. The Karen Delaney, years before, even when her son Will was a live, wouldn't have dared talk to Lois Delaney that way.

Karen's smile didn't disappear as the car came to a stop at Riverside Drive, it remained on her face as she rode the elevator to her apartment, and it grew wider as her son threw himself at her once she made her way through the door. "Mom, Daddy and I went to the zoo! Look!" Jonah lifted up his sleeve, revealing a tiger tattoo. "Isn't it cool?"

"Very," Karen said before pressing a kiss to her son's hair and watching him run off in the direction of his room. Karen put her coat down along with her purse on a chair by the door and made her way into the kitchen, where her husband was watching her. "The Zoo? I promised him I'd take him,"

"He knows." Will said, reaching for her hand. "He wanted to go before so that way he could be your tour guide," Will smiled as he brought Karen to him. "How was your morning slash afternoon?"

"Boring and yet extremely eventful." She smiled. "I met my mother for coffee,"

"And how did that go?"

"She didn't know I had children," Karen said sadly. "And she called me Kiki,"

"Why would that-"

"My father called me Kiki. I only liked hearing it from him. He made it sound special. My mother makes it sound redundant and boring." She said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She took his wine glass and left the kitchen.

"Kare," She turned around to face her husband, the only one who'd kept calling her Kare, instead of Karen. She smiled.

Like her father, Will used the nickname in a sweet gesture. He didn't use it when he was completely angry with her. And when he did use it, she felt safe. Every time he used it there was a certain undertone to it. Everything he wanted to say he said it in that one word. It made her realize how much she loved him. She preferred to be Kare when she was with Will. She preferred to be Karen with everyone else. She'd never be Kiki unless she was with her father. That wouldn't happen. Karen Truman was going to live forever.


	14. Lonely Love

Lonely Love

_Dear Karen, _

_ It would have been my sister who had given this to you. Your best friend had to give my best friend my forgiveness letter. I don't know if that's what this will be necessarily, but you know me, just trying to get the simple things out of the way. _

_ We were five years old when we met each other. We met at the little park by your mom's coffee shop. You had on a red dress with a white bow around the middle. How do I remember that? I have a picture. _

_ We were ten years old when we were in our first class together. It was math with Mr. Thomas. How do I remember it was math? I remember you telling me everyday how much you hated the class, and yet you always had the highest grade. _

_ We were fifteen years old when we shared our first kiss. It was out in the middle of the field. Yes it was awkward, yes it was new, and yes we were young. But I loved it. I loved how your cheeks turned pink. How do I remember? I brought you a pink rose and you laughed at me. "It's the color of my cheeks," You said. _

_ The day you turned twenty I asked you to marry me. The day you turned twenty one you said yes. I don't know why it took you a whole year to say yes, maybe you knew it would only last a few months. Maybe there was something internal telling you to forgo the engagement so that way you wouldn't get hurt. _

_ You are not only my best friend, but the love of my life. You have been for sixteen years now. You have seen me through everything. You know what I look like in the morning. You know what I look like hung over. You know what I look like after sex. If it was anyone else Karen, I wouldn't care so much. But you're different. You're always different. _

_ In the years to come, don't be lonely, love. There is no reason for it. You will find someone, you will tell them eventually of who I am. And why you insisted on naming your son after me, keeping a promise you made years before. If there is anything you could possibly do, is don't be lonely. Don't do that to yourself. Find someone who makes you happy. If it takes you a few runs then so be it. Find the man who makes your world seem so small that it fits in the palm of his hand. _

_ You may hate me right now for telling you to move on, but you can't hold onto me forever Karen. I love you, you know that, and you know that somewhere you'll continue to love me. Don't beat yourself up for something you had no hand in. _

_ Love you. _

_ -Jonathan. _

Will folded the letter back into its small square, placing it back in between the two pages of Karen's book. He walked out of the room, book in hand, and dropped it unceremoniously in front of Karen at their table. She eyed the book, and he watched an unnamed emotion flicker briefly across her face. She straightened out the book, shifting the letter back into its proper place.

"You had no right," She said calmly, keeping her eyes away from Will. "You had no right to look through my things,"

"I wouldn't have had to if I didn't think you were hiding something from me." Will said dropping in his chair. 'I've told you who I've slept with and whom I was engaged to-"

"You've slept with two woman, including me, you've been engaged to two woman including me. That's a pretty damn short list Will. I've been married twice. I've been divorced twice. If we're going to start naming off people whom we've slept with I'll let you go first since yours is definitely longer."

"Who was he?" He asked, watching her walk away from the table. "This man you're going to name your son after?"

"You know who he was." She said coldly. "Imagine losing Grace. Grace who has been your best friend for years. Imagine waking up one day with the realization that she's gone. And she won't come back. Imagine going through the apartment finding little things of hers put aside, tucked into a corner, bring back memories of happier times. Imagine the pain you'd feel. That tightness in your chest you're feeling right now? That's what I'm feeling. It's what I always feel. "

With that Will watched Karen walk out of the apartment. He went to their bedroom window and waited to see her on the street below. She stepped out of the apartment building in her beige coat he didn't see her grab. He had known her long enough to know her posture when she cried, and she hated to admit it, but he made her cry. It was the way her shoulders were rounded as she has her head bent. It was the way her hands didn't stay to far from her face, allowing herself to brush away the tears as they fell.

He grabbed his own coat and made a beeline down the stairs, cursing himself halfway down them. Once he flung open the door revealing the street, he watched the shade of beige enter a cab and take off. "Damn-it" He yelled. He slowly walked back into the building and road the elevator up to his apartment, getting ready to call Grace or Jack, hoping Karen would stop there. There was no answer to either of them.

Will graciously picked up the book and watched a second letter fall out. It wasn't as used as the one for Karen had been. It was only folded once instead of twice, peaking Will's interest. He opened it and immediately recognized Karen's handwriting. It was another letter.

_Dear Jonah, _

_ You haven't been born yet, but when you get this letter it would be at a birthday party. A party you would remember. _

_I'm sure by the time you've read this you've asked me about the bracelet on your arm, the one I've had you wear since day one. That was my best friend's bracelet. It's your name sakes bracelet. Jonah Andrew. My best friend gave me that the night before he died. He told me to give it to someone who meant the world to me, and you and your father are my world. _

_As you get older you can do whatever you want with it. Keep it, give it to your own children, nail it to a wall; I don't care really. It's yours now. Just remember how much love was put into that bracelet. _

_I love you Jonah. _

Will folded the letter for Karen's unborn son and put it back into the book, placing the book back onto the shelf. He hated himself for jumping to conclusions. He had secrets. She had secrets. The one question that ran through his mind was, 'Why did I push her so hard, when she never pushes me?' He wanted to make things right. He had to make things right. But how?

Will had all the answers that crossed his mind. Karen was at the cemetery. He would have realized this if he had paid attention to what she was looking at when he started in on her. Karen was coming back. She had left all her things untouched. What he didn't take notice was the small clipping of a sonogram. What he also didn't realize was that on the back of the sonogram was two years, ten years apart, marking Jonathan's decade anniversary. Under that in Karen's perfect writing; _Lonely Love. _


	15. Months, 12 Months

Months

He met her on New Year's morning by pure accident. He had walked Time Square, just to see the aftermath of the night before. She was standing in front of a coffee shop, talking rapidly into her phone, yelling at someone rather.

"No, I don't want the blue flowers! I wanted the violet ones for the mantel piece. No I don't care what they say! It's not their decision! It's mine!" With that he watched her close her phone shut, and her eyes met with his."How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that there will be violet flowers on your mantel," He laughed lightly. A small smile appeared and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Some people don't understand a simple direction," She shook her head.

"Do you want to go get some coffee," He asked, nodding in the direction of the door. "It'll get your mind off the flowers,"

"Oh honey," She sighed. "I have coffee brought to me. I don't buy it."

With that he watched the woman walk away a few buildings down and get into a black town car. Whoever she was, she was important.

The air was cold, crisp, and extremely pleasant that afternoon. The sun added a needed glow to been unkind to him that week. According to his boss, the new client was a blessing and a miracle that they were being picked to represent. It was his job to make a good impression.

He was sitting on a park bench, reading his paper when the familiar honey lemon smell he had smelled every so often, attacked his senses. It was the honey lemon, then the sound of heels, and then the voice. _Her_ voice. Will slowly looked up and watched the woman from the coffee shop approach him. Her hair was swept up, her sunglasses set firmly over her eyes, her walk filled with purpose.

"You're the lawyer?" She asked as she approached him. She moved the sunglasses to the top of her head, and he took in the red around her eyes. She had been crying, or she was sick; crying was more likely.

"And you're the client." He said getting to his feet, folding up the paper as he did so. "Will Truman," He said, offering his hand.

"Karen Walker," She said taking a step back. She nodded in the direction of the pathway. "Shall we?"

He nodded and followed. They discussed her husband's needs and something about a Valentine's Day Dance she had to attend. It didn't get any warmer next to Karen Walker, it seemed to get colder.

In March, he had asked her out for dinner. It wasn't a date he convinced himself. She was married. They both knew that. But she still came. He hadn't even asked what she told her husband. It didn't matter. Not anymore. If someone asked him if he thought it was strange he was suddenly spending a lot of time with this woman he'd say no. It was purely professional. They had gone to dinner often. Some occasions breakfast. While Grace was away he'd make Karen dinner at his apartment. It was a strange friendship they began.

The tell tale sign of spring was the heat waves and the flowers that were in bloom. It all seemed to happen at the beginning of April. He had gotten a letter in the mail, an email, and a phone call, alerting him to the departure of the Walkers. That was at the beginning. They had gone to the Bahamas the letter said, the email said they were going to Florida; the phone message said they went to Europe. He believed the phone message over anything else, only because it was Karen herself who called.

Upon their return it was a party. Their names and their pictures were splayed across every newspaper in New York. Everyone knew they had returned from their getaway. He was reading the report about the supposed divorce they had begun to talk about when there was a knock on the door.

She was standing there, dressed in a violet business suit with a bag in her hands. She looked tired and nervous. "My husband is out of the country," It was all it took for him to usher her into his apartment, into his arms, and eventually, very slowly into his bed.

Once May rolled around, their affair had begun, but nothing occurred. It was the stolen glances across the dinner table, the fleeting touches as they walked past each other. The whole month of May while Stan was out of the country there was not one word spoken about him. There was no mention of a husband, of another life that involved socialite parties; that month none of it existed. The only thing that existed was the tension, the comfortable tension, between them.

Some people say that the first morning of June depicts the mood for the rest of the month. In this case, it was true. The morning of June 1st, when Karen and Will woke up, it was raining, overclouded and extremely cold. It was unfortunate and unusual weather for New York. Karen passed a hand through her hair, sighing, getting ready to roll over to place her head on Will's chest when the shrill of her cell phone pierced the silence. She suddenly felt the world slowly falling back into place, her mind begged her not to roll back over and answer her; she already knew who was calling.

"Morning Stanley," The beginning of June started with heartbreak. She left a half an hour later, having spoke two words since the phone call. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears, but they never fell. "I'm sorry,"

He had seen her twice in that month of June. Once was to invite him to dinner at the mansion, which he declined. And the second was to hand him a plane ticket to the Bahamas leaving the following morning for a month, coming home the second to last week of July.

Grace asked Will to bring her back something. Jack demanded he bring him something back. Will nodded and in a daze left the apartment and got into the town car that was waiting for him. He was taken to the airport where he met up with Karen, who was very adamantly talking on her cell phone, just like in January. She closed it and looked up at Will with a smile, "We're meeting Stanley there," Karen turned on her heel, Will followed her onto the plane, where it was going to be just them and her staff.

He instinctually reached over and took her hand in his when her body stiffened as the plane took off. She tightened her grip, helping her nerves was the mix between the rough calluses and the smooth palm. It was indeed going to be a long trip if this was going to be how they were going to be acting around each other.

It had been four weeks, four very long weeks, and he was back in the same seat going in the opposite direction. He re-read the letter he had gotten that morning at least a hundred times by now, wishing and hoping she had been forced to do it, but the words were most definitely hers. Every plead for forgiveness, every mention of not planning on falling in love with him, every emotional word that was put into the page letter all began to her. He knew why she disappeared. They both knew.

August passed by with no phone call. No letter. No mention in the paper about the Walkers.

September passed by with no phone call. No letter. A mention in the paper that the Walkers were moving to England for the time being.

October passed by and fall had officially begun. The leaves had changed, the temperature changed, but once again there was nothing from Karen.

November began quietly. Will had submerged himself waist deep into a new case. A woman was getting divorced from her husband who had accused her of cheating. He knew right away it wasn't Karen, but it was the first person he thought of. He knew her well enough now to know she'd fight long and hard to save her marriage.

December first arrived and his phone went off at three o'clock in the morning. "Will Truman,"

"It's me," Her voice was broken, full of sadness, and tears. "He's gone,"

"Karen, it's three in the morning. What could you possibly-" He began saying as he sat up in bed.

"Stan's dead Will. Stanley is dead." There was a silence that neither of them could dare to fill. "He died this morning. He had a heart attack,"

"Where are you?" He asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Outside." Will looked at his bedroom window and quickly got up to look down at the street. Low and behold there was a black town car sitting in front of the building. "Will-"

He hung up. He threw on a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before running out of the apartment and into the elevator. The elevator doors opened and he ran onto the sidewalk, cursing himself for not wearing shoes. The town car was gone. It was the drop of a coin the forced him to turn around, and there she was. Looking vulnerable.

"I didn't call you because I didn't know how to tell you." She said, he took a step closer. " I wanted to tell you in July but, he wouldn't allow it."

"It doesn't matter now Karen," Will said shaking his head. "Let's go inside." She nodded her month of December was the month to forget everything and they did. It was time to start over.

He met her on New Year's morning. She was standing in front of a coffee shop, talking rapidly into her phone, yelling at someone rather.

"No! Not the violet flowers or the blue flowers! If you don't have white roses then I don't want to hear any other options! This is for my wedding that's why I'm so damn mad." He smiled at her as he led her in. Yes these past twelve months were definitely interesting .


	16. No Regrets

No; the single word that takes two seconds to say and for you two whole years to regret. It's the easiest word to say and the most life changing. It can change your life drastically if you let it, and you did. You couldn't say yes. You had to say no to the lifestyle you wanted, trading it for a lifestyle you thought you were suited for. Now look at you. You were thrown into the lifestyle with no life jacket and you're drowning.

You pretend to hate him. You call him names, you make fun of his life, when it's just because you're jealous. You want what he has; you always have. Even when you were allowing yourself to admit that you were in love with him, you wanted what he had. You wanted a sense of family, and you got it whenever you went with him to his parents. You wanted to be loved every day, and you did whenever he looked at you. You were different back then. A lot different than you are now.

If someone were to ask you, have you ever cheated on your husband, your reply would be a truthful no. But if someone were to ask if you ever thought about it, you'd hesitate, because the thought enters your mind every day. And the same thoughts too. The thoughts revolve around getting lost in a pair of hazel eyes and getting warmed up by the pair of arms that you have thrown yourself into years ago to cry.

You've always imagined yourself with a child. You're friends would design their perfect weddings while you planned and imagined your perfect family. You always imagined yourself with two kids, a big house, with a big back yard, and a husband that you worshipped. In a sense you got that, but with the wrong person. You watch your step children play in the pool remembering a conversation you had years before.

"_Kids, yes or no?" Will asked laying on his back with Karen on her stomach, both wrapped in sheets. _

"_Yes." She looked up at him with a smile on her face. "What?"_

"_I can actually imagine you with a child," He said. "You'd be a good mother." He rolled on to his stomach, coming down to Karen's level. _

"_Really?" She asked, raising her arm, so her head rested against her palm. "I want two kids. And a big house with a big back yard."_

"_You have this whole thing planned out it sounds." He laughed. "When did you have time?"_

"_When my friends were planning their dream weddings I was planning my dream family." She smiled. "It was a fun thing to imagine. And if it all works out, I just need a husband to worship. And someone who worships me; well someone who loves me just as much as I love him." _

"_You sound so cliché," _

"_Shut up." She swatted at him, earning a kiss in return. "But it's what I did in my free time. What about you?"_

"_I want two kids. A big house. Big back yard and a wife who I have fallen madly in love with," She smiled, and was gladly pushed down by Will. _

You always knew what you wanted. You knew the type of man you wanted when you were five. You took up art lessons just so you could design the exterior of your house. You took the job with Grace because you wanted insight for the interior part of the house.

You left Will and two years later you meet him again, his best friend happens to be your boss. Without a single word it's as if you both agreed not to mention your past. You purposely called each other names; brought each other down, attempting to ignore the pain you both caused each other. You would purposely find a legal problem so he could handle it. You were excited and saddened when Stan announced he was your lawyer. You had a rule; never mix pleasure and business with a staff member. And in a way, he was.

Now you sit, watching the ocean below you, trying to think of something that was good about your marriage to Stanley Walker. You try to think of a single happy moment when you didn't feel like you were being used and there wasn't one. It was the hand of Jack against your shoulder that brought you back.

"You okay Karen?"

"Yeah honey, just thinking." No you were not okay, but you didn't want him to worry. You felt his presence lessen knowing he left you to your thoughts. He always knew when you needed to be alone. There wasn't much else to think about, except for Will. What Will thought about all of it. There he was, standing behind you, with his hand on your shoulder and you reached for it, intertwining your fingers with his. He felt warm, good and strong. Exactly what you needed.

"You want to be alone?" He asks, you tighten your grip. _No._

"Apart of me is going to miss him. And the other part is glad he's gone." You admit sadly. You pull his arm lower, needing to feel him and to feel somewhat alive.

"You never know in a couple years. One day when you're sitting at breakfast, you're going to want to ask him for a kiss or a little bit of love and he won't be there. But there will be small tokens of him lying around the mansion. A cigar, a t-shirt that you haven't seen, or a picture of the two of you. It's the little things that you'll find that will prove to you that you still miss him."

"No." You say strongly. "I'm selling the manse and his things."

"Why?"

"I need to forget about him. I have to forget about him. I need to be keeping an open mind about something else. Someone else." You add in a whisper. You don't realize that he has sat down beside you, taking you into his arms.

"I miss you Karen,"

No; the single word that takes two seconds to say and for you two whole years to regret. It's the easiest word to say and the most life changing. It can change your life drastically if you let it, and you did. You couldn't say yes. You had to say no to the lifestyle you wanted, trading it for a lifestyle you thought you were suited for. Now look at you. You were thrown into the lifestyle with no life jacket and you're drowning. But what you didn't realize until now, is that you had your life jacket all along. Even though you pushed him away.

You didn't expect him to kiss you after his admittance. You didn't expect yourself to be so calm when Grace and Jack announced their presence. You didn't want to pretend that there was nothing going on, when for years it seemed, you were having an affair. Not a physical affair, but more of an emotional one. You forced yourself into a realization that you were glad you told Will no, years before. It was a gigantic stepping stone that you needed to take. And you took it.

_Do you regret what you did?_

_No. _


	17. One

One

_Do you know what's worth fighting for? Well it's not worth dying for. _

These were the words he replayed in his mind millions of times as he stared at the woman before him. Her body pale and weak, yet fully engulfed with life. He couldn't begin to comprehend what she thought she was doing when she stepped off the sidewalk. She was trying herself to someone he realized. But it wasn't to him. She knew, they both knew, that she didn't need to prove herself. But she still took the step off the sidewalk into in coming traffic.

It's not a rare occurrence to see a New Yorker take a step into traffic. It was cars stopped at lights most of the time anyway. But this was different. She saw the car coming, heading towards her, and despite the yells of protest, she walked anyway. Her not listening to others wasn't rare, it was practically throwing her life away that was the rare occurrence. She confessed to him one night that she had thought of suicide. Never did he think she'd act on it. Not after it nearly killed her the first time. It was what they continuously fought about.

_"You're always drinking." He stated obviously. " Don't you think one day you're going to drink yourself to death." _

_ "I'd rather be dead than deal with that son of a bitch," She said pointing at the door leading out into her hallway. "He's stressful." _

_ "Not to the point where you have to drink twenty four-seven." _

_ "What the hell do you know about my life Will?" She asked, sitting up a little. Shifting the comforters, giving her room to breathe. "Do you know what I have to deal with day in and day out?" _

_ "I never stop hearing about it!" He yelled in return. "It's always Will do this or Will do that. You may seem like it's a good idea at the time Karen, but it's plain out stupid." _

_ "Well I'm sorry I talk to you about my problems. You're the only one who listens and actually seems to care. Just another thing I can add to the things of I'm wrong about." She said throwing up her hands, allowing them to drop, sounding off with a thud against the blankets. "You're the only one who I feel like I can trust Will. Jack seems to care. I know he cares. Grace is the same. You. You're different. You I can talk to full well knowing that I won't be judged. When did that change?" _

_ Her question was full of answers. He didn't know what to answer with. Maybe the time she allowed him to kiss her under any pretenses. Maybe it was the time she said 'Honey, I love you,' making it seem like a joke. Or the time where she looked completely unaware of her surroundings, lost in time and in space, allowing anyone or anything to come and attack her. It was any moment that he could pull out and pick. But it wasn't his place to voice, not in the beginning stages of her divorce. _

_ "I should have never married him." Karen admitted. If not to Will, then more to herself. "He asked me and I should have said no." _

_ "Why didn't you?" _

_ "I never learned how to say no." She said sadly. "I grew up always getting what I wanted. And at the time he was perfect. He seemed like he wanted what was best for me. I didn't see that what was best for him wasn't what was best for me. Nowhere close." She seemed to have calmed down considerably. There wasn't anything that prompted this conversation. "I wanted his acceptance so badly that it became an obsession." _

_ "What did you do?" _

_ "Everything possible. I made sure I was available anytime he needed me. I made sure the house was made up to his liking. If he needed to screw me for whatever reason I made sure the maids had the night off. I never did like anyone around," She smiled sadly into her comforter. She didn't. And he knew first hand. She didn't move half an inch when he sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She smiled at the contact of his lips against her temple. _

_ "You're going to be fine Karen." He whispered. "You're going to be fine. You have me. You have Jack and Grace." He said quietly, not looking down at her. "You're never going to have to prove yourself to anyone. You don't need to. We love you for who you are." She nodded her head against his chest, allowing herself to relax. "Don't beat yourself up over this when you have someone who'd die for you." _

_ That was her breaking point. She turned her head into his shirt and cried. Her tears soaking up the front of his shirt, the middle of his chest. Her shoulders shook and her body trembled as she became colder, causing him to tighten his grip, pulling her to him more comfortably. This was one of the moments he knew he loved her. _

"Mr. Truman," He heard someone say. It was the doctor next to him. "Mrs. Walker seems to be doing well. The car accident seems to have shaken her up pretty good. She had some internal bleeding that we had to stop. But other than that it's just a series of bumps and bruises that are going to take time to heal. Her ribs aren't fractured but if she does anything extraneous they might so be careful with that." The doctor demanded. "If you'd like you can see her now," Will nodded his head was ready to follow the doctor in.

He stared at the body before him, pale, weak, still engulfed with life. He couldn't begin to comprehend what she thought she was doing when she stepped off the sidewalk. She was trying to prove herself to someone he realized. But it wasn't to him. She knew, they both knew, that she didn't need to prove herself. He had been telling her that for months now. But she still took the step off the sidewalk into in coming traffic. "What were you thinking Kare-"

"Mr. Truman there is someone on the phone for you," A nurse said behind him. He looked to the phone besides Karen's head and noticed the red light flashing.

"Hello," His voice quiet and still shaken.

"Will? It's about Stan." The voice on the other side was Grace.

"What about him?"

"He died three hours ago."Grace stated. "How's Karen?"

"She's fine now. What do you mean he died 3 hours ago? I didn't hear about it."

"The jail called Karen first. I assumed she told you." The light bulb went off in his mind. That was it. That's why she had taken the step. She had persuaded Will into going shopping with her. He heard the muffled ringing through the bathroom door as he finished getting ready. He didn't take a second to take in Karen's sudden distraught appearance. He kissed her despite the fact that he knew something was bothering her. He still took her shopping like she had requested.

Will hung up the phone without giving Grace a reply. He slowly sunk into his chair besides the woman who made his world slowly stop turning, forcing him to think. What would he have done if he knew it was news about Stan? He wouldn't have let her out of arms reach. There was no way he would have done it. He wouldn't have turned his back to her as she joked about dinner and his incessant need to cook her something. He would have watched her.

He slowly began to count down from a hundred. Hoping that he'd catch a few minutes of rest, seconds would suffice enough. He got to 80, and memories of the morning began to fill his mind. Sleep began to come slowly. 60 seconds left and he thought he felt something brush against him. But nothing. Sleep began to play tricks. 30 seconds and the beeping of the monitors began to fade away, sleep coming closer thankfully. 15 seconds and everything was almost dark and mute. The only thing playing loudly was his thoughts.

_One_

"Will," He heard faintly, forcing his eyes open wide. She was awake. Her eyes filled with pain and life was on him. Her dark hair resting against the pillow seemed to be shaken from her movement. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she took his hand in hers. "How long have you been here?"

"Couple hours." He said quietly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why?"

"You were hit by a car Karen," He reminded her. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't remember. Doesn't matter now does it?"

Will kissed her forehead, his need to feel her beneath his lips almost sickening to some. "I could have caught you. I would have caught you."

"Don't," She demanded quietly. "Don't you dare do this. I just lost my husband Will. I don't need your pitty."

"He wasn't your husband Karen. He was never your husband. He was just some man who took you under his charms and used it to his advantage. He was some man who made you feel worth of something when you still felt incompetent and worthless." Will said realizing he was contradicting himself. "You don't need him."

"And you think I need you?" She asked. He didn't want to nod. He didn't mean to nod. But he did. He counted down from five.

_Five. He wanted to scream. He wanted to crawl into her bed and hold her. _

_ Four. She wanted to kick him out of her room. She didn't want to see him right now. Not after the morning feud. _

_ Three. He wanted to smash a window. He wanted to smash something, just to get her out of the damn room and into his own. _

_ Two. She heard him murmur something sweet and unintelligent in her ear. Something along the lines of "I need you," _

_ One. _

"Will!" He heard someone yell. "William. Truman." Will opened his eyes to a blue and white room. He was in his parents' house he came to realize. "So help me god Will, if you're not up then I-" It was Karen. Her voice traveled down the hallway and she stopped promptly at the doorway staring at him.

She looked good. A white t-shirt, blue cotton shorts. Something very un-Karen like. Her hair was significantly longer and pulled up into a ponytail. No sign of a car accident on her. She came slowly into the bedroom and crawled over to him. He took her left hand in his and cascaded his finger around the engraving of her silver band.

_One. _


	18. Prowling Eyes

Prowling Paparazzi and Pain

Karen couldn't help but smile. She had to smile for the people before her. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white blouse, covered with a black jacket. Her hair swept up into a perfect bun, with tendrils coming down framing her face. Her make-up, the little that she had on, was perfect. The lip gloss, the eyeliner, and the blush; all perfectly placed.

There were people surrounding her, lights going off constantly, people shouting questions at her. Questions that over time became redundant and now extremely boring. She could answer them now without even batting an eye. She used to think about what she wanted to say, what seemed to be necessary for whatever reporter was asking the question. Now, it didn't matter. They were all the same. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction that they were capable of getting a small ounce of emotion. Not from the vindictive, badgering reporters whom she loathed.

_"Mrs. Walker!" Karen heard someone yell her name. She let go of Will's hand and turned towards the voice. It was a young boy not much older than twenty five came running up to them. "Mrs. Walker can I ask you something?" _

_ "Sure." She said looking up at Will, her annoyance obvious. _

_ "Is it true you're having an affair?" Karen took a step away from Will, her current source of warmth. "I have reports that-" _

_ "Your reports are wrong. It's Mr. Walker that's having an affair. I am simply spending time with my lawyer going over some finer points of my pending divorce." Karen said, straightening up some. "Now go back to whoever you are working for and tell them if I see my name in the papers in the next two weeks, I will have them fired and blacklisted for any and all papers." _

_ The boy nodded his head and took off the way he came. The moment he was far enough Karen shrugged her shoulders, her posture relaxed instantly, her needing her source of warmth again. "You did good," Will said before kissing her temple. "You did real good." _

_ "How do all these people know I'm having an affair? When Stanley's been having an affair for nearly three and a half years and I've been having one for a few months. It's not that news breaking." _

_ "Come on," Will said with a tug of her hand, bringing her into his side. "Let's go get dinner," _

"Something on your mind ma'am?" A man dressed in a suit asked her.

"Plenty of things." She smiled. "A beach to be exact."

"I was going to interview you on a beach a few years ago. You were spending two weeks with your lawyer." He smiled at the memory himself. "You denied you were having an affair. I wasn't going to mention that I had pictures of you." He said pausing to catch a glance at the woman.

"You didn't want to be blacklisted," She laughed. "If it was any other time Mr. Johnson I would have given you your interview. Any other time."

"It's why I kissed your ass for so many years," He laughed, setting down his notepad on the stool next to him. 

"You definitely got me out of some tight situations Marco."

_"Jonah, you're going to get your jacket dirty," Karen told her son before sweeping him up in her arms. Her black sunglasses were perched neatly on the bridge of her nose. She made a move them off, but it was the sight of a man with a camera that stopped her. "Shit," She said in a small whisper. She spared a glance at her son who hadn't heard her. She hoped. _

_ "Mamma?" The four year old asked. "What's wrong?" _

_ "We are going to take a short cut okay?" She felt the bristle of Jonah's hair against her cheek as he nodded his approval. It was then that she came toe to toe with another reporter. One she had recognized instantly from several occasions when she was Mrs. Walker. _

_ "Well good afternoon Mrs. Walker," She instantly cringed at the name. She hadn't been that woman in years. "Well, who is this? Surely this can't be Mr. Walkers little boy." The reporter sneered rather happily. "What's your name?" _

_ "Jonah," He said happily. "And she's-" _

_ "Karen!" She spun instantly; grateful to whoever it was that got her out of this predicament. It was Marco Johnson. She smiled and shook her head as she saw the man approach. His shoulders relaxed and his steps filled with confidence, a huge difference than the previous years. "The diner is the opposite way," _

_ "Yes well," She began, her breathing returning to normal. "I didn't want to be stopped by reporters. " She said nodding in the direction of the man with the camera. "But as you can see that didn't work out as planned." _

_ Marco took a step around Karen and stood toe to toe with the two people in question. "You will stand down and leave Mrs. Walker alone. She has been out of your papers for years. Let's leave it that way." _

_ "But the boy," One of the men said. "He hasn't been seen before I was merely-"_

_ "Doing your job." Marco replied. "Another part of your job is to make sure that you're interviewers don't feel threatened or uncomfortable. Surely this constitutes as being uncomfortable." As the men began their descent, another idea, one that would make the woman smile, crossed his mind. "If I see anything about Mrs. Walker or this young boy I will personally make sure that you are blacklisted from any and all papers. And I will sure you will never be a reporter again." _

"You made sure your ass was covered." Karen smiled.

"Yes ma'am. Just wanted to further my chances of getting an interview." He smiled. "How is your boy anyway?"

"Good. He turned 9 last week." She smiled. "He got the train set this morning. He was excited."

"I'm glad he got it. He's a good kid. Deserves something special." Karen nodded her head sadly. "How's Sam?"

"She's good. She turned 2, two months ago." Karen smiled. "She's daddy's little girl."

"That's where they are?" Karen nodded her head.

_ "Karen!" She heard Will down the hallway. She turned her attention to the two year old in front of her. Adjusting the red and white dress. _

_ "Your daddy is a goof ball." Karen whispered to her daughter. "Your daddy is missing his tie. If he'd paid attention he'd know I have it." _

_ The door swung open and Will stood at the entrance to the baby's room. "Kare have you seen-" _

_ He was stopped when Karen stood up, his eye catching the tie on her arm. She whipped it around his neck preparing herself to tie it. "You were too busy looking for your shirt to realize it was gone." _

_ "Daddy," Samantha said. "Mommy called you a goof ball." She managed to get out. Karen finished tying the tie and gave a brief look to her daughter. Her brown hair hitting her shoulders, the ending curling a little. She looked so innocent. "Sorry mommy," _

_ "She's a daddy's girl," Karen stated, walking out of the girls bedroom, allowing her husband to take the child. _

"Would you like to start the interview, Mrs. Truman?" Marco asked. Karen nodded. "What's the one thing you wish you could stay away from?"

"The prowling eyes of the paparazzi." She answered, adjusting herself in her seat farther, getting comfortable.

It was one thing she couldn't stand for the many years she was under them. And all they did was cause her pain. The pain of the prowling paparazzi.


End file.
